#fuck i never actually finished watching those lectures FUCK

[koqabear]

「 Camera Shy 」

♫: Automatic, Red Velvet // Movie Star, CIX // Color Me, JUNNY // Kitty Cat, KISS OF LIFE

“You’ve always tried to live an honest and responsible life; never spending money on anything ridiculous, scoffing at the things other people would be so willing to drop their paycheck on. But when life gets hard, you’re bound to give into your guilty pleasures, right?”

camboy!Beomgyu x fem!reader

Genre: f2l, smut, pw/minimal plot 

Word count: 14.4K (there’s like three different smut scenes here)

Warnings: gyu has a thing for glasses idk don’t question me, (mc wears glasses, not necessarily prescription), gyu is lowkey manipulative if u squint, slight possessiveness on his part? nothing toxic (i think), alcohol consumption, gyu has a tattoo.. 

smut warnings: gyu is a bit of a perv! mean dom!Beomgyu, sub!mc, masturbation (f&m), filmed sex, (consensual), dirty talk, degrading, use of toys (f&m rec.), exhibitionism, voyeurism technically, bit of a voice/hand kink? slight humiliation kink, mentions of safe words & subspace, mentions of squirting lmao, manhandling, spanking, pet names (princess, baby, etc.), fingering, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, marking, dry humping, handcuffing, biting, unprotected sex, dumbification, dacryphilia, creampie (lmk if i should add anything!)

Notes: lemme tell you. i wrote abt the tattoo before i stumbled upon that pic, when i tell you i was just ??? barely proof-read heehee. the thought of this au hit me like a that-so-raven vision, and I literally spent the whole day making sure I could finish this. enjoy bc i love camboy aus sm. (oh and pls, do me a favor and reblog— i have an ominous feeling about what’ll happen to this fic once i post it.)

Beomgyu has always found the idea of his work a bit ridiculous. 

Day by day, he’s a normal college student— he spends his early mornings in classes, taking all the morning slots everyone was always reluctant to enroll in before he went off to work; he was known as that cute server amongst the women that visited the restaurant he worked at, able to upsell and gain tips with ease as he quickly became a favorite amongst his coworkers.

He liked the attention— of course he did, he needed to in order to thrive in the field of his actual job, his hours at the restaurant nothing but a side hustle compared to the hundreds he could make of a single stream.

Those hundreds could always breach into the thousands— but those were on especially good days, like his annual Valentine’s Day stream he always held for his lonely, single viewers. 

Beomgyu was quite the sweet talker— he got the practice from his day-to-day shifts, watching girls his age and older fawn at his words and flutter their eyes playfully. It was clear they enjoyed the attention just as much as he did, a cute smile on his face as he faked a shy laugh whenever they would compliment him.

Your hair looks really nice today. You smell amazing. Do you work out? You have a really nice voice. 

He got that last compliment a lot.

“Do I?” he would purr, a sultry smile crawling on his face each time, like a practiced action as he would tilt his head teasingly— the reaction would be positive each time, without fail, and he would always end up with a collection of napkins with scrawled phone numbers every time he would clock out— his coworkers would poke fun at him every time they watched him dump them all out apathetically. 

You weren’t into that one person? Dude, the lady at table seven was so fucking hot.

Beomgyu never really paid mind to their teasing— he could care less for the men and women that tried to butter him up during his shifts, forced to act as though their shameless flirting didn’t make his stomach twist unpleasantly— instead, he would be forced to smile, laughing sheepishly before he would slip away with one last comment. 

“I’m flattered, really— but, I have someone I’m interested in.” 

That someone was you— the pretty girl that sat across from him during his ten am lecture, finding himself spacing out every time and staring off into your direction; though you never seemed to notice, much too caught up in taking notes as he watched the way your brows would furrow, biting at your lip and adjusting your glasses as you remained focused— whether those glasses were for reading, blue light, prescription, or even decoration, he didn’t care— all he cared about was how unnecessarily attractive you looked in them. 

He thought about you more than he liked to admit— it was frustrating at first, his thoughts starting as nothing more than puppy love to something worse— it was only after you piqued his interest that he began streaming more. 

This was both a good and bad thing; good because, well, he began to climb the ranks of popularity and earn more, but bad because he would find himself thinking of you. Each. And every. Time. 

“Wish I could fuck you,” he would sigh out, his comments going too fast for him to keep up with as his eyes fluttered shut; leaning back against his headboard, he shifts, making sure everything but his lips remain out of frame before he’s back to closing his eyes, “would you let me make you feel good? God, I’d do anything just to feel you, taste you…”

As far as his audience knows, he’s speaking to them— the comments grow wild and tips flood in, all asking him to stop being a tease as they watch the way he palms himself through his sweatpants; grabbing at his length, stroking it slowly as he lets his imagination run wild. 

He’s not wearing boxers; Beomgyu knows it drives his viewers mad, able to see as a wet spot begins to form on the light material, his tip leaking furiously as his other hand tugs the hem of his sweater over his chest— his vision is hazy as he reads the requests, laughing softly as he allows his fingers to trace along his chest absentmindedly— tracing over the muscle of his abdomen, circling his nipples slowly as he reads a comment under his breath.

Stop teasing and hurry up already !! >///<

The comment has him rolling his eyes— yet his usual tippers begin to request the same thing, and his hand is slowly tugging at the tied strings of his pants as he smiles, mocking and mean as he bites his lip. 

“Hurry up? You want to command me while you’re over here throwing money at me like a whore? All just to watch me fuck myself, dreaming that it could be you?”

The comments start speeding up; it’s all a blur to him, but the sound of money coming in is enough to tell him that his usual audience is active again.

“Pathetic,” he sighs, his voice deep and grumbly as he reads over the requests that come in with the money: yes, i wish it were me there… please, can we see your cock?

“Desperate little sluts,” Beomgyu hums, tugging his waistband down and allowing his cock to spring up; it smacks against his stomach, and though the people in his comments attempt to regain his attention with dirty words and useless requests, he knows it’s all because of you— guiltily, he finds his thoughts straying the moment his hand wraps around his cock. 

His streams have a certain formula to them; the more money, the better the show. Which is exactly why he ends up kneeling in front of the camera, fucking his cock into a clear flashlight as he listens to the sounds of tips coming in left and right— but his eyes remained shut, spilling enough filth to have his audience satisfied as he allows to let his imagination run wild. 

In every stream, he cums to the thought of you; he has to bite his lip to not moan out your name like a pathetic bitch in heat, flooding his fleshlight with cum and continuing to fuck into it until his next orgasm.

In every stream, he finds himself thinking the same thought at least once— do you watch his streams?

»»»

The concept of camboys is ridiculous to you.

Why in the world would you spend all your money and emotions on a single person, when you can just go on Twitter and find the next best account that has yet to be suspended? Well, it’s not as though you find the idea of sex work appalling, but you don’t think you’d ever feel good about yourself spending a hard-earned paycheck because you were horny. 

You’re not stupid; you know sex workers make bank, and you know that there are people in the world that love emptying out their bank accounts to such workers; whether it’s due to a kink or to feed into their parasocial relationship, you’re not sure. 

You find that a good session on Twitter and your fingers usually does the trick— maybe a toy or two, if you find yourself feeling that needy. 

Today’s session quickly becomes both disappointing and humbling; every account you try to look for has either been suspended or deleted, and every video you come across is something that’s not to your taste or something you’ve seen many, many times. 

You feel weak as you come across the same account again; guiltypleasures— and he’s damn right, because you’re unable to resist the urge to click on his icon, feeling your thighs rub together with impatience as you sit back in bed— scrolling through, you’re surprised to see that he’s posted another video— without a second thought, you’re watching it. 

“Fucking pathetic,” he sighs out, the familiar growled phrase making you gulp; you never found yourself to be too attracted to men who are extremely dominating and mean, but the man on your screen is somehow able to make it work as you find yourself getting wetter, “are you touching yourself right now? Don’t you wish I was there with you?”

And shit, you think you know why he’s able to make you come back to him every time, even if he’s posted nothing new and you’re forced to rewatch old videos most of the time; maybe it’s because of his hands, delicate and thin as they wrap around his favorite pocket pussy, or maybe it’s the way he slowly fucks into the said toy; stretching it out, his tip poking out and oozing enough cum that you can hear the wet squelching sounds that come from every thrust.

Or maybe, it’s his voice, deep and breathy and addicting as he mumbles out filthy things like it’s the only thing he knew how to do; his lips are red and swollen as he groans, hissing through his teeth as you watch the way his hands tighten around his toy. 

“Shit, I’d fuck you so good,” he sighs out, hips rutting into the toy in his hands as he laughs; his head tilts, and though you’re only able to see his lips, you know his eyes are teasing as he looks into the camera, “fuck you so that you’d never want anyone else but me.”

His thrusts are picking up— you didn’t even realize the moment you began touching yourself, embarrassing whimpers and breaths falling from your lips as you keep your eyes honed in on his motions; you’re close, so close, your ministration speeding up as you fight to keep your eyes open. 

“You’d be my good little cumdump, just for me to use— right?”

The video ends shortly after.

God damn it! your mind screams, the sudden cut-off catching you so off guard that you completely ruined your orgasm; you feel insanely embarrassed by how frustrated you feel, not realizing how short the clip he posted was until now. Clicking away, you feel as though your mood is ruined as you read the contents of his tweet. 

A small clip from the stream. Watch the rest here: https://…..

Shit. Of course he would be a camboy. How did you not realize this sooner?

Honestly, if you sounded like that, you would be one too— and frustratingly enough, the brief cutoff is a damn good marketing strategy, because after a moment of thought, you’re clicking on the link.

You could just rewatch the video— you could also just go rewatch his previous videos, or even use your imagination to help you finish— but the idea of doing so is much more unpleasant than usual. (And humiliating, because you’ve found with horror that you’ve begun to memorize how his previous, equally as short, clips go.)

Your resolve begins to weaken the moment you click on his page— because of course, everything costs money— It costs to see his previous streams, costs to message him, and costs to get a fucking membership. 

Who is paying for all this?!

You, apparently— because after some serious, slightly horny-impaired thought, you decide that getting a low-tier membership wouldn’t be too bad, right?

The cost is monthly (because of course it is, this website seems to want to charge you for just looking at his page) and you wince slightly as you watch your transaction go through. 

Once you see the notification of your purchase pop up on your phone, you feel dreadfully sobered. 

Because shit, being a low-tier subscriber only gets you a part of his most recent streams— about less than half of it, you notice— only able to get full access to streams prior to this month. It’s enough for now, but you can’t help but feel as though you’ve become the very thing you’ve despised as you lay back in your bed, staring at your ceiling for a moment before you’re sighing.

You’re still horny. 

»»»

You think you can get behind the whole camboy thing. One may say you’ve been swayed, and quite honestly, you don’t think you could dispel such claims at this point.

Because it’s been a few months, and you’ve managed to stay through the whole thing. You’re surprised that you’ve begun to keep his streaming times in mind as you go about your day, ending your study sessions early or wondering if you’ll get home from work in time to watch his streams. 

You always do. Maybe it’s a deity above making sure you get your money’s worth, or maybe it’s the fact that guiltypleasures is a human too, with a normal life and better shit to do than sit in front of a camera and jerk off all day. 

The idea of following in his footsteps has crossed your mind more often than you expected; anything would be better than being a hostess at this god-awful job you have, forced to sit through the way people take out their anger on you and proceed to flirt with the servers— one of those servers being Beomgyu.

You were able to realize how popular Beomgyu was after your second shift— it didn’t take a genius to figure out why as you were left to deal with the way women of your age and older (mostly older. So many older women.) would creep up to you shyly, putting up a front of innocence as they asked you is Beomgyu here today? Could we sit in his area, please?

Seeing him rack up tips after a busy shift is always enough to have you wondering if you should switch to being a server— but then you see the way the women are treated, your stomach flipping in disgust at the way men leer and comment at them— you’ve even seen Beomgyu get cursed at plenty of times as well, shivering at the jealous partners and the way they’ve been blacklisted for threatening him. 

Tonight is one of those nights. You’ve clocked out, shrugging on your jacket and gathering your belongings when you see Beomgyu storm in through the employee entrance; you don’t think you’ve ever seen him angry, but the sight has your eyes widening as you watch the way he frowns at his uniform, cursing angrily under his breath as he approaches the break table you stand by. 

“Fuck,” he hisses, low and breathy and mean as he continues complaining, berating the customer that had the audacity to throw their drink at him— but you, in your very depraved state, remain stuck on the way he sounds, his voice far too attractive for a person who is spouting out filth.

This feels familiar. 

“Hey, you okay?” you ask softly, feeling awkward as you mentally slap yourself for your train of thought; it seems as though Beomgyu hadn’t even realized you were there, his head snapping up as he stares at you like a deer caught in headlights— his mood is immediately shifting as he sends you a sweet smile, acting as though his clothes aren’t soaked as he waves you off causally. 

“Yeah. Just some ridiculous customers,” he says, laughing softly as he grabs at a pile of napkins on the table; you wince as you watch him scrub roughly at the stains, unable to stop yourself as you jump to his aide. 

“Here, you’ll only get the stains in deeper if you do that,” you say, taking the napkin from his hands as you begin to dab at his uniform without much thought; you’re much closer than you should be to someone you’ve never really talked to, but you don’t seem to realize it as Beomgyu practically forgets to breathe from your proximity. 

Shit, how did he find himself in this situation? He might as well go back out and thank the jealous, “tough guy” boyfriend that threw his drink at Beomgyu, because he feels as though every guilty fantasy is coming back to mind as he takes in your concentrated expression, your hand placed firmly on his chest for support as the other dabs at the stains in his uniform. 

You smell so good. Even though you’ve been in the restaurant just as long as him and have been around food this whole time, he’s still able to pick up on your scent with every shaky breath he takes. 

You’re wearing your glasses, too.

Beomgyu’s mind is wandering off to dangerous places; he knows he needs to get himself under control, because the danger of him popping a boner just from how close you are is a higher probability than he’d like to admit. It seems as though you’re snapping out of your trance the moment he clears his throat, your face growing hot and slightly horrified as you jump back; Beomgyu can’t help the smile that tugs at his lips at the sight, finding your embarrassment oddly endearing. 

“Sorry, got carried away,” you say, smiling shakily as you take in the way Beomgyu practically beams at you— always a sweet, nice guy, waving you off without a problem as he laughs softly.

“No, it seems to have helped,” he says, and you can’t help but notice how oddly charismatic he is even now, during this mundane interaction that has you stuttering over your words stupidly— but to be fair, how are you supposed to give him advice on how to get the stains out when he’s looking at you with the cutest god damn puppy eyes you’ve ever seen, his brown eyes round and sparkly as he listens intently to every word you say? 

“I wouldn’t have thought to do that,” he smiles, his cheeks puffing up cutely and oh, is it weird that you want to coo at how cute he is and pinch his cheeks…? 

Definitely weird, you decide, letting out a soft laugh as he tells you that he’ll try it as soon as he gets home. 

“Speaking of which, I’ll let you go; you probably don’t want to be here longer than necessary,” Beomgyu is so kind and considerate even as you tell him it’s fine and that you didn’t have any plans after work anyway. 

“I’ll let you get back to work,” you can’t help the soft laugh that escapes you as Beomgyu asks you to wish him luck, the smile he sports coy as you follow his command without any hesitation— you take this as your chance to leave before things get awkward, but a part of you itches to go back and talk to him more. 

Beomgyu’s good, you realize as you’re exiting the building, a bewildered laugh escaping you as you realize that he managed to charm you just from that short interaction. 

You get why he’s so popular. 

»»»

Any plans to go to bed early and rest are immediately thrown out the minute your phone buzzes beside you. 

You were just about to put your laptop away— just on the verge of falling asleep, until your eyes reluctantly drifted to read the words that take over your screen— it’s a Twitter notification, the username making your eyes widen as you’re scrambling to unlock your phone and read the rest. 

guiltypleasures

had a shitty shift today, let me take it out on you? https://…….

Oh. oh, oh lord… you can feel the exhaustion lifted off in an instant; suddenly, you’re wide awake, eyes widening as you quickly copy the link of his tweet into your browser— while your mind scolds you for trying to stay up and possibly ruining your sleep schedule, the other, much more sinister part of it tells you that you’re paying for a reason. 

The stream starts in five minutes. 

While you wait anxiously in your room, your hands swiftly going to your nightstand to take out some toys— your trusty vibrator and a dildo you recently bought, all because of him— Beomgyu paces around his setup, gathering his own toys and changing into something that the viewers might like; today's ensemble is a bit more bothersome than usual, but he knows how much his viewers like when he dresses up and role plays a bit with them. 

He was tired; today's shift took a toll on him, and he’d rather be fast asleep than putting on a stream— but after looking at today's earnings, he couldn’t help but feel unsatisfied with it all, deciding on impulse that he would put on a stream to make up for his lack of tips— instead, he’ll earn tips in another way. 

“Hey,” he starts quietly, sitting back in his seat as he takes a glance at his monitor, making sure his face is out of frame. The viewer count rises and comments flood in no time, all of them freaking out about how good he looks in the suit he wears; the all-black ensemble feels stifling to him, but he knows taking it off will be worth it in the end. 

Bad day today? Let us make you feel better :( 

His top tippers are all begging for his attention, desperate and needy as always as they beg for him to get started— but he feels a lot more sluggish than usual, his gloved hands caressing his thighs slowly as he reads the comments out loud. 

“Yeah, today’s shift wasn’t that great,” he speaks, his voice deep and sultry as he allows a moment to pass, reading all the comments that beg for him to use them, “I only thought about you though. Just wanted to see you.”

There he goes again— he’s no longer talking to his audience, but to you instead, closing his eyes and imagining a world where you’re in front of him, or even on the other side of this screen, one of the many faces that lusts over the way his cock begins to harden, the bulge becoming much more apparent as he lets his mind wander.

Unbeknownst to him, you are on the other side of your screen; a shy and flustered mess as you shift in your bed, watching the comments fly by as you wonder if you should join in— not that you could, anyway, your low-tier subscription excluding you from doing such things, as ridiculous as it is. 

You’re practically devouring the man on your screen with your eyes; taking in the way he’s dressed, his pretty hands covered with leather gloves as he runs them slowly over his black trousers; stopping as they run back to his hips, a hand beginning to palm at his bulge as he spreads his legs a little wider in his chair— today's setup is a bit different, along with his attitude as he seems to sweet talk the audience more than usual. 

“Seeing you is the only good part of my day,” he sighed, his free hand trailing up his chest before it stops at his tie— he’s tugging at it, loosening it and allowing it to hang around his neck as he continues, “Can’t stop thinking about how much I want you, how I’d fuck you until all you can remember is my name.”

The offer is tempting; you groan a little as you watch him begin to slide off his blazer, throwing it to the side before he’s unbuttoning his white shirt— he’s making quick work to become undressed, you notice, untucking the material and undoing his belt as the sounds of it jingling ring out in the room. 

Yet, no one knows his name— no one knows anything about him, except the tattoo that runs across his side as he slides off his shirt, the sharp, elegant lines running all along his ribs, trailing down to his hip bones and disappearing under his pants— the rest of him remaining a mystery as you’re left to lust over a nameless, faceless stranger. 

That’s probably where the appeal comes from; you’re able to imagine anything about him, from what his face looks like to what he may do when the cameras are off; you’re free to mold him into the perfect fantasy, using him and projecting onto him as you watch him slowly unzip his pants, a hand slipping under as he begins to jerk himself off teasingly, slow as always as he waits for the requests to come in— like clockwork, your eyes fall to the end of his tattoo, taking in the cute heart that rests by his hip bone, the ending of the elaborate piece that always has you wondering what it’d be like to see in person. 

“Hmm? You want more?” he says, tilting his head slightly as he smiles; it’s mocking as always, biting into his lip as he begins to roll his hips into his hand— making a show out of it, throwing his head back and letting out a breathy moan that has you shivering.

“How about you show me just how much you want it,” he sighs out, smiling evilly as tips begin to come in left and right as a response; you find the way he’s able to manipulate the audience impressive, always able to get them to blow their money on him without hesitation. 

He leans forward, towards the screen, and you’re able to admire his lips as he reads the comments, mouthing them as the lights cast a glow on his pretty, pouty mouth, his neck tempting and begging to be marked as you watch the way he displays it so teasingly. 

“Good girl,” he laughs softly, your eyes flickering to the comment section for a moment; his top tipper has spent an egregious amount on him yet again, and you listen to the way he softly begins to fulfill her request, the rest of the audience momentarily disappearing as he begins to speak to her. 

“Always such an obedient thing for me, hmm? Tell me, what do you want to see?” 

His manipulation is seamless as he watches another tip flood in; all from the same person, the amount doubled in order to get his attention past all the others that blow a measly twenty on him, nothing compared to the three hundred that is highlighted in gold, the comment momentarily pinned for the man to read it.

I want you to fuck your favorite fleshlight and use a vibrator while you think of me. Can you moan my name please? It’s—

Her comment has your eyes widening for a second; it’s bold and demanding, and the idea of requesting such a thing from the camboy in front of you is daunting as you read her request over and over— your face feels hot and you’re already taking off your sweatpants from how needy you are, wondering if the man on your screen will accept such a request.

The first two are nothing to him— in fact, it’s more on the tamer side as he already finds himself reaching for the aforementioned toys. 

The problem lies in the last request. 

He’s not one to moan names on a live stream; he usually saves it for personal requests he gets, the videos much more personal and calculated as he gets to take his time with them— so for his top tipper to request such a thing on his livestream is a bit more difficult; especially when he spends this time thinking of you. 

But then again, it’s three hundred dollars. 

“Okay then, is that what you want? Hmm?” he teases softly, purring out her name at the end as he watches the way she tips him again; it has him laughing in amusement, sitting back in his chair before he’s crossing his arms over his chest, singing out her name with a soft lilt as he watches the way she continues to pour money at him like it’s nothing. 

Soon enough, more requests come in; all with the same amount and request, hoping that they’ll be able to hear their names fall from his lips as he slowly begins to tug down his pants, raising his hips as he’s left in nothing but his underwear, the briefs straining painfully as his cock twitches, begging to be free. 

“One at a time,” he murmurs sweetly, patronizing as he mumbles that it’s her turn now, watching the way she seems to react with every purr of her name. 

The sudden trend of requests makes his stream slightly difficult; he’s always found himself to be a lot more into them when he’s mentally moaning out your name, lips ghosting over the syllables every time he’s coming undone. Instead, he’s forced to moan out the name of a stranger as he begins to palm himself slowly, even though his mind thinks back to you and the small interaction you had today. 

He feels his cock twitch at the mere thought. It’s painfully hard and won’t stop leaking as he takes it out, not needing to use any lubricant as he begins stroking it slowly, hips jumping at the feeling of the leather against his skin— and though his lips moan another’s name, his eyes remain closed, thinking about you. 

You and your meek personality, always letting guests take out their anger on you before they’re turning around and sucking up to Beomgyu— he’s always had to resist the urge to fuck them up as a response, knowing that you think no one else notices your sullied mood and your crestfallen gaze every time they seem to get away with it. 

He’s never free to comfort you. You’re both far too busy to be around each other for longer than a few minutes, and today was like a blessing as he caught you at just the right time— he would have stayed the rest of his shift back there talking to you, if only he hadn’t been playing the part of a sweet, considerate guy. 

He thinks back to how you felt against him. How, even though your actions were innocent and you were much more focused on taking out the stain of his uniform, he still felt the warmth of your hand against his chest, delicate and smaller than his as you leaned in close enough to allow himself to get a whiff of your sweet scent.

And those glasses. 

He never thought he would find himself hung up on such an item, but the way they make your eyes look big and sparkly is practically enough to make him cum on the spot. Instead, he grabs a hold of his newest fleshlight, soft and tight, just how he imagines you would be. 

It’s perverted, but as he slides his cock into the tight sleeve, groaning slightly at how he’s barely able to push through, he imagines that it’s you. His mind begins to wonder what it would be like if you were above him right now, your thighs encasing his and your pussy leaking onto his cock as he fucked into you without abandon. 

As he turns on his vibrator, running it along his balls and letting out pathetic moans, he imagines what it would be like to use it on you while he fucked you, imagining the way your tits would bounce and your eyes would squeeze shut as he made you cum until you were unable to hold yourself up. 

On the other side of the screen, you imagine the same thing. Your legs are shaking and you’re fighting to keep your eyes open as you follow the pace he’s set, pressing your vibrator firmly against your clit and letting out weak whimpers at the sensation. You try to ignore the way he calls out the same name over and over, wondering instead what it would be like to hear your name from his lips— the sound is ringing throughout your mind the moment you imagine it, burying your face into your pillow as you increase the intensity of your toy. 

“Let me fill you up, want you dripping with my cum,” he growls out, the sloppy sounds of his thrusts only spurring you on as your thighs close around your hand, hips grinding into your dildo as you sink your teeth into your lip ruthlessly— it’s almost enough to draw blood as you watch the way he cums into his toy, hips continuing to rut into the it even long after he’s come, a white ring forming at the base as he turns the vibrator off from the overstimulation. 

“_— Shit,” Beomgyu almost slipped up for a second, proceeding to moan out his requested name repeatedly as a distraction. 

And you know you’re imagining it, but you’re briefly coming undone after that, your pussy tightening against your dildo and your legs shaking as you run your vibrator along your clit, imagining that it’s him inside you, that he’s currently spilling his load in your cunt— your mind swearing that you almost heard your name slip from his lips for a second— and it isn’t until you recover from your orgasm, the sound of another name leaving his lips repeatedly making you come to, that you realize it was your brain playing trick on you to help you get off. 

But you weren’t imagining things. 

Beomgyu hopes his audience didn’t pick up on his small mistake, but he’s relieved to see that they’re none the wiser as they continue to request to hear their name next.

“Let’s see…” he says, and you’re barely able to keep your eyes open as you watch the way he leans towards the camera again, reading requests off the monitor as he grinds his hips into his toy absentmindedly throughout it.

He’s barely getting started.

In turn, so are you. 

»»»

Beomgyu is the sweetest guy you’ve ever met. 

After your brief conversation at the restaurant, you quickly found yourself talking to him more often. 

It turned into him sitting next to you during the one class you shared, your friendship growing stronger day by day as you got to know him better. 

He acts like a puppy; he’s so sweet and kind, his voice soft and endearing every time he spoke to you— and, like a stark contrast to the flirty and outgoing guy you saw during your shifts at the restaurant, he was very shy, ever the gentleman as he always treated you with nothing but kindness. 

“Good morning,” Beomgyu hums, sitting in the seat next to yours before he’s placing down a cup of coffee, “I got this for you. I already finished mine, but I thought you might like some too.”

Sweet gestures like these were common with him; despite your insistence that he really didn’t need to, he always did it anyway, ever the charming man as he sent you a cute smile that would have you unable to say no. 

“Hey, I heard you’re friends with Yeonjun?” you ask, reluctantly accepting the drink after he insisted that you didn’t need to feel bad; your lips are curving into a small smile as you take a drink, stomach flipping at the realization that it was your usual order— you’re surprised he was able to remember it after the first time you got coffee together. 

Beomgyu nods in confirmation. You’re a bit surprised by his answer, unable to see the two be friends due to their contrasting personalities. You can tell that he’s curious as to why you’re asking as he pouts slightly— a habit he always does when he’s confused— and you’re quick to swallow down your drink and give him context.

“He’s having a party this weekend. I was wondering if you’re going?” you say, and Beomgyu feels his stomach drop slightly; not because you were going— well, not entirely, at least— but because if you were going, you’d definitely end up seeing a different side of him. And after seeing how fond you are of his puppy-like behavior, he dreads seeing your reaction to a much more reckless side of him.

“I… think so,” he says sheepishly, wondering what kind of excuse he should make to not go— but he pauses, seeing the way you pout at him, grabbing his arm desperately as you lean into him as you plead.

“You should go— pleeeasee? Yeonjun’s parties are super over the top and he always invites hella people, I don’t wanna be there alone.” 

You have this man wrapped around your finger; with one look at your face, your gaze sweet and pleading as you cutely pout at him expectantly, he finds himself agreeing, unable to fight back a smile as he watches the way you cheer triumphantly, quieting down the moment the lecture starts. 

Beomgyu will definitely have to be careful this weekend— but seeing you will be worth it, even if he’s risking the chance of potentially changing the way you’ll view him forever. 

»»»

You have yet to see Beomgyu. 

The party started hours ago, yet you’ve only been present for a few as you’ve already both greeted and lost Yeonjun, forced to mingle with people you barely know as you all hang out in his backyard— because lord knows how packed and stuffy the place would’ve been if he held it inside. 

You currently find yourself playing cup pong, teaming with the girl in your communications class as you go against two strangers— Yunjin is much friendlier and outgoing when she’s drunk, cheering you on and yelling triumphantly with every ball you get in— you’ve barely had anything to drink as a result, and Yunjin is eager to fix that as she hands you a small shot cup; you’re hesitant at first, only accepting it after she explains that it isn’t strong at all, the soju mixed in with other things as she tells you you’ll barely feel it. 

It’s not that you’re a lightweight that would get drunk off one shot, but you’d rather not get shit-faced when you have yet to find Beomgyu; your eyes scan over the place once more after you take the shot, Yunjin’s cheers falling deaf onto your ears as you allow the team in front of you have their turn. 

“Drinking already?”

Beomgyu has snuck up on you successfully— you’re flinching in surprise as you feel his hand fall gently on the small of your back, leaning in close so he’s properly able to speak to you over the music. 

Beomgyu feels as though looking at you is a sin; he’s forcing himself to keep his eyes off you, listening to the way you ramble into his ear about how happy you are to see him, your head tilting back and exposing the column of your neck to him to get him to hear you. 

“You’re not wearing your glasses,” he comments, oddly hung up on it as he watches the way your smile only widens.

“Yeah, didn’t feel like it,” you say lightheartedly, leaning back against Beomgyu and finding comfort in the position that allows the two of you to speak over the booming music.

Unbeknownst to you, he takes this moment to drink in your appearance. The white, oversized button-up you wear is left completely open as it drapes over your figure, the light blue denim shorts entirely too tempting as they ride up your thighs, much too short to even cover you properly— but of course, that’s the look you were going for, leaving your bottoms unbuttoned and folded down as you allow your bikini to peek through— the color is flattering on your skin, and Beomgyu wonders if he’ll be strong enough to resist you, eyes flickering over to the pool that’s filled with plenty of people as a distraction. 

“You wanna go in?” you ask, and Beomgyu realizes you’ve followed his line of sight, shaking his head quickly in response. You laugh, turning around briefly as you listen to the sounds of Yunjin telling you that you have to drink— you freely down the shot in the plastic cup this time, much more at ease now that Beomgyu is around— and turn back to him, pulling at his shirt slightly as you take in his attire.

“Come on, you’re definitely dressed for the part!” 

And that much was true— though he realized halfway through his drive here that doing so would not be a good idea, especially if he wanted to keep up this cute, innocent act of his.

“It’s too full right now,” he says, his excuse valid as you study the pool for a moment— only to agree, turning back to the game as you tell Beomgyu to cheer for you with a cheeky smile. 

It doesn’t take much longer for you to get tipsy— all because you made the mistake of trusting Yunjin to play properly during her turn, missing entirely and proceeding to get the two of you obliterated after she went against one of the guys on the opposite team (Jake, he later told you.)— but you’re quick to make sure to bring Beomgyu down with you, handing him every other shot you get as you tell him he’s now on your team.

What you don’t seem to realize is that Beomgyu is not a lightweight— far from it, watching with amusement as you slowly begin to get tipsy, your mouth loosening and your personality becoming much more outgoing after losing the game to Jake and his friend— three times in a row. 

“Again?” you ask, laughing at the way Yunjin yells in agreement— Beomgyu has to tug on your shirt to get you away, telling you that it’s definitely not a good idea to go again, especially with someone as uncoordinated as Yunjin. 

“Why didn’t you play with me then?” you say, leaning against him as you smile up at him prettily; he’s leading you away from the table and towards the grass, over to where a small campfire is lit, plenty of chairs scattered about as the music becomes louder in this area. 

“You don’t like games?” you ask him, stumbling to a stop and tugging at his shirt to stop with you, just so he’s able to hear you better. Coyly, you smile, your eyes twinkling mischievously as you lean in to speak to him quietly, “Don’t you wanna play with me?” 

Your words are fairly innocent— but your delivery is not, and it has Beomgyu sputtering in surprise as he wonders how he should respond to such a random advance— though he doesn’t need to in the end, watching as you break character and laugh at your own antics, perking up immediately as you listen to the song that’s playing. 

“Oh, I love this song!” 

You’re dancing carelessly to the song without a second thought, pulling Beomgyu in and laughing at the way he seems reluctant to let loose; it’s probably the alcohol in your system that’s making you act like such an idiot, leaning against him and smiling at the way he seems adamant to avoid your gaze. 

“You know, I just realized that we’re matching!” you laugh, tugging at the collar of his white button-up before you’re glancing down; it’s tucked neatly into his denim shorts, and your smile is only growing wider as you look back up at him, “we look like a couple or something.”

Your words affect him much more than he’d like to admit— but he has no time to dwell on it, eyes looking past you and at Yeonjun, who walks straight toward the two of you with a grin stuck on his face. 

“Hey, why didn’t you tell me you were here?” Yeonjun yells, grabbing your attention as you’re turning to greet Yeonjun; you’re bubbly and seem to find everything funny as you giggle slightly, waving at him happily before you’re stepping away from Beomgyu. 

“I couldn’t find you,” Beomgyu mumbles, watching the way Yeonjun slings an arm around your shoulders casually— he feels oddly angered at the sight, unsure why it irritates him so much to see the two of you act so close. 

“Didn’t know you two were friends,” Yeonjun says, and he watches as you begin to ramble about your history with Beomgyu with a small smile— scanning your outfit, he frowns. 

“You haven’t gotten in the pool yet?” Yeonjun asks, raising a brow at your entirely dry figure; you shake your head, which only makes him tilt his head in confusion, “I thought you said that’s the only reason you were coming?”

“Well, I just haven’t gotten the chance to,” you say sheepishly, the shy smile on your face quickly turning to one of confusion the moment Yeonjun hugs you; he’s got you tight, and you’re stumbling along with him as you begin questioning what he’s doing, your eyes widening the moment you peek over his shoulder— you’re heading straight to the pool, the volume of your yells rising significantly as you begin to struggle against your friend, yelling at Beomgyu to come to your rescue. 

(It’s all for dramatic effect. Yeonjun laughs at the way you pretend to struggle against him, and he pretends he doesn’t hear your laugh of joy the moment he falls over the edge, letting go of you in time and forcing the two of you into the water.)

You’re pleasantly surprised to find that the water isn’t freezing; you personally thank Yeonjun’s heating system as you come up for air, wiping at your face and adjusting your hair as you begin to splash Yeonjun, insulting him for being such a bully. 

Your movements are immediately stopping the moment you spot Beomgyu at the edge— Yeonjun is quick to leave, sending you a small wink (the term “wink” used loosely) before he’s off to find his next target—he’s taken his shoes off and he looks more than ready to jump in, and you can’t help but laugh sweetly at his concern before you realize that you should probably take off your shoes as well.

“You okay?” He asks you, watching the way you cringe as you take off your shoes, tossing them over the edge and leaving them to dry as you swim to where he stands. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you smile, watching the way he seems hesitant to do anything— to get in or leave, you’re unsure. A second passes before an evil thought pops into your head, taking notice of your equally soaked clothes that remain stuck on your body.

“Oh. Hey, could you hold this?” you begin, shedding off your shirt before you’re bundling it into a ball, holding out the fabric for him— he crouches down, arm reaching out for your shirt— and you seize your moment, both hands grabbing onto him and tugging as hard as you can. 

And Beomgyu, in his unguarded state, falls in immediately. 

The laugh you let out is pure evil as you watch him fall in, flailing for a second before he’s coming up for air— and honestly, Beomgyu can’t even be mad, at least not when you’re laughing so hard, your face lit up as you take in the way his hair is completely flat on his head. 

“Sorry. Couldn’t help it,” you say, but you don’t look sorry at all as you swim over to your shirt that’s now sunk into the bottom of the pool. You’re diving down to get it, quick to throw it over the edge and by your shoes before you’re tugging off your shorts. You’re glancing back at Beomgyu, relieved to see he doesn’t look angry at all, when you spot something peculiar. 

“Woah, what’s that?” you ask, approaching Beomgyu eagerly as he’s quick to follow your gaze. His cheeks are on fire and his hands are quick to fly onto his ribs, turning away from your curious hands and even more curious gaze as he stutters out an excuse. 

“It’s nothing.” That’s probably one of the lamest things Beomgyu has ever said, and you’re not believing him for a second as your eyes widen at his sudden change in behavior. 

“Is it a tattoo?” you ask, trying to get a peek through the cracks of his fingers; but the water makes everything blurry, unable to get the details of it before you’re humming appreciatively. “Hmm. That’s cool— I didn’t know that was such a common spot to get tattooed.”

“Is it?” he asks, and suddenly, he doesn’t seem to want to hide it anymore. Your curious gaze and awed compliments have him smiling, raising a brow as he feels himself become more confident— the idea that you of all people would judge him seems ridiculous now.

“Who else do you know that has a tattoo here?” you’re late to process the question— only because your eyes are widening as he admits that it is a tattoo, the words flying out of your mouth before you can truly process if it’s a good idea. 

“I don’t know. I’ve just seen it online, I guess.” Of course, this could mean many things— but it means one thing to you, and you’re practically biting your tongue from the sheer terror that you inadvertently admitted to a guilty, secret pleasure of yours.

“Online?” he asks, and you try to not look suspicious as you choose to simply remain quiet and nod. 

“Yeah, like on Pinterest and stuff,” you add, hoping that it’s enough to prove your innocence (to yourself) as you watch Beomgyu nod along to your words. 

“Aren’t your clothes weighing you down?” you ask, eyeing the way he’s barely moved with a small smile, “or like, are you not wearing anything underneath?”

Most of the people here came with their swimsuits underneath— some just opted to strip to their underwear, which is why you didn’t feel alarmed to find people stripping their layers in order to jump into the pool. 

Though, now that you think about it, you feel a bit bad for forcing Beomgyu to get in without much of a warning. Your concerns are quickly soothed, however, when Beomgyu shakes his head, hands coming up to unbutton his shirt before he’s laughing softly at your words. 

“I was wearing my shorts underneath these,” he confesses, your eyes widening as you find yourself going silent— because wow, was Beomgyu always this ripped?

You feel odd as you watch him strip, sliding off his shirt as most of his torso remains underwater; he’s slowly making his way to where you stand by the edge, and you can feel your heart stopping as you take in the look in his eyes. 

Dark. Dangerous. Tempting. You think you’re imagining things as you look away, gulping heavily as you feel yourself sobering suddenly. He’s throwing his shirt in the direction that your pile of clothes lie, and you feel oddly embarrassed by the way you have to look away as he strips his bottoms off as well. 

You’re only glancing back in time to see him hover out of the pool for a second, his upper body coming out of the water as he takes a moment to lay out both your clothing properly. 

Holy shit. 

Was it common for people to have the same tattoo? It surely was, right? Those are the only things that are going through your mind as you observe Beomgyu’s tattoo, taking in the familiarity of each line as your eyes drift down to his v-line— your eyes spot the small, perfect heart that rests right at his pubic bone.

Oh god. Oh god, oh god oh god, you think, trying your best to not lose your shit and melt in a puddle of horror and embarrassment as you realize that Beomgyu has the exact tattoo as guiltypleasures.

It had to be a popular tattoo. Or maybe it was a reference to something, or a drawing a tattoo artist put out to let other people use— anything, it had to be anything else than the conclusion your mind was terrified of making, meeting Beomgyu’s gaze shyly as you realize that he’s caught you staring, hard.

“It’s pretty,” you breathe out, unsure you can trust your voice as you watch Beomgyu sink back into the pool, “Is it… a reference to something?”

Please say yes. Please say yes.

“Thanks,” he starts, leaving you on edge as he takes a moment to inspect his tattoo— running his fingertips over it, tracing over the delicate lines in a way that has you gripping onto the edge of the pool, “and no, it’s not. I designed it myself.”

You’re gonna pass out.

“Really?” you grit out, hoping he can’t pick up on the tension of your voice as you smile, albeit forced, “Like, it’s one of a kind?”

“Yup,” he grins, staring down at his tattoo with a proud look on his face, “One of a kind. My tattoo artist didn’t even post it, upon my request.”

You’re gonna cry. Maybe you’ll scream, or even sink into the pool and try to drown yourself. 

Because Choi Beomgyu, your closest friend for the past few months and the man you may or may have not been beginning to crush on, is guiltypleasures, the man you lust after every night and fucking pay to watch. 

You know they say that quiet guys are the freakiest, but this is too fucking much. 

“That’s so cool,” you say, sinking into the pool so the water is up to your mouth, hoping that you won’t blurt out any more stupidities as you stare off into the distance, attempting to let this new information settle in. 

“Hey, you okay?” he asks, and you hate how attentive Beomgyu has become— even more because everything is starting to click, his husky and deep voice a replica of your stupid camboy’s, your body reacting involuntarily to the sound of it as you simply nod softly. 

“Mhmm,” you hum out, coming out of the water a bit so you can speak, “I think those drinks from earlier fucked up my stomach— I should go home.”

“Oh,” Beomgyu says, and you feel awful for the way he’s become confused at your sudden shift in mood, “Are you sure you’ll be okay driving—?”

“I Ubered here,” you mumble, oddly embarrassed at your words, “cause I knew I’d probably drink a lot.” 

“Well then let me take you home,” he insists, ever the gentleman as you try to say that he shouldn’t, that he should just stay and enjoy the party. 

“It’s dangerous to call an Uber at this hour though,” he continues, his stupid fucking puppy eyes taking a toll on your resolve as you bite your lip, “Plus, I only really came to this party because of you.”

God, what the hell was this behavior?! This innocent, shy, and sweet Beomgyu was a complete one-eighty— scratch that— was an entirely different fucking person than the one that always talked down at you at night, spilling filth like it was in his nature and treating you like you were worthless.

It was a bit terrifying as you watched the way he remained entirely oblivious to the Earth-shattering realization, getting out of the pool and reaching out to help you out with a sweet smile. 

After a second, you take it. 

You feel so awkward as you gather your clothes; you’re jumpy and you’re sure Beomgyu has picked up on it as he eyes you from time to time, watching as you wring out your clothes as much as you can before you’re slipping on your shirt, your shorts left in your hand as you avoid Beomgyu’s eyes entirely. 

“I have a few blankets in my car— you should use those to keep yourself warm,” he says softly, looking back at you and frowning at the way you only nod with a tense smile. 

Was he wrong about you? Were you lying when you reacted positively to his tattoo? Beomgyu has no idea why something as simple as a tattoo would change the way you treat him entirely, but he’s determined to get to the bottom of this as you enter his car, entirely stiff as you wrap one of his aforementioned blankets around yourself. 

“Hey, did something happen tonight?” He asks you halfway through his drive, licking his lips nervously as he watches the way you jump in your seat, not expecting his question at all as you remain silent for a second.

“Uhm, no?” you say, though you seem unsure of your own answer as you wrap the blankets a little tighter around yourself, “I’m telling you, it was probably the drinks— I didn’t think my stomach would be so sensitive tonight.”

Your explanation is entirely plausible, but Beomgyu doesn’t believe it as he watches the way you remain tense, his car slowing to a stop as the two of you wait at the stoplight in an awkward silence. 

“You’re lying,” Beomgyu says, deciding that it’s better to just be bold instead of tiptoeing around the subject, “Is it because of my tattoo?”

Your lips press together. 

“It is,” he says, and he feels an unexpected wave of disappointment and anger wash over him, “did something that small put you off that much?”

“That’s not it,” you say, your heart pounding against your chest and your body heating up as you realize that you’ve upset him— and greatly, because you’re able to see the way his brows knit together and his hand tightens on the steering wheel as he begins to drive again. 

Did he think you were judging him? That you thought less of him because of such a small thing? 

“Then what is it?” he insists, and you’re mortified to see that you’re stuck in traffic, victim to Beomgyu’s sharp gaze that demands answers, “Cause you’ve been acting weird since I showed it to you.”

“I’ve seen it before,” you mutter quietly, sinking into your seat from the humiliation, “I recognized it. Your tattoo.”

Beomgyu pauses. Then he thinks of the many times he’s had his shirt ride up when he’s around you, from stretching to taking off his hoodie and having his undershirt get pulled up along with it.

“Okay?”

“Like. Online.”

That’s enough to leave him silent. Stupefied, even. One glance at you and your body language is enough to confirm that it’s exactly what he’s thinking, your posture so small that you look like you wish you could disappear. 

“You’ve—“ he swallows, wondering what else to say as traffic begins moving again, “like… Twitter—?”

“Your streams.” 

Fuck. Fuck, oh fuck, Beomgyu needs to get the fuck out of the car this instant, because his dick is already hardening and he can feel his brain short-circuiting at your words— you watch his streams. 

In your mind, you feel as though you’ve completely dug a hole for yourself— Beomgyu is probably horrified at your confession, but it’s not as though you knew it was him, or that you had any malicious intent, or that—!

All Beomgyu can think of is how he shouldn’t park the car in the middle of the road and fuck you stupid. 

“Did you watch them a lot?” he asks you, his voice eerily quiet and stable, and oh no he’s interrogating you right now, this is the end for you.

“Yeah,” you say, deciding to be completely transparent now that you’ve decided to tell the truth, “I’m sorry.” 

Is it possible to come untouched like this? Beomgyu might just find out, because the way your voice is so meek and shy and guilty has him biting down on his lip, his mind growing foggier and his foot pressing down on the gas pedal a little harder as he begins to weave through lanes. 

“You were a subscriber then,” he says calmly, and you feel as though he’s trying to humiliate you on purpose as you nod your head in admittance— unbeknownst to you, that’s exactly what he’s doing, enjoying the way he’s breaking you down from just a few questions with sick pleasure. 

“How much money did you spend on me then?” You’re finding his line of questioning a bit odd at this point, but you refuse to look up from your lap as you find yourself answering anyways. 

“I was just a low-tier subscriber…” you say, and it feels even more humiliating to admit that you cheaped out on him— what the hell was wrong with you?

“Low-tier? Not even a single tip?” he repeats, and you don’t seem to register the way he pouts at you until it’s far too late.

Stopping at a red light, he grabs your chin, turning your face roughly so you’re looking at him— and he’s back, the man behind the screen, except this time you can see the sheer pity that fills his gaze as he speaks to you as though you’re lower than him.

“How are you gonna make it up to me now?”

»»»

God. Fuck. Are you dreaming? You think you might pass out.

“I know, I know I said I wouldn’t stream tonight— shouldn’t you just be happy I’m here?”

Your stomach is twisted in knots and you feel small as you attempt to take in everything properly— Beomgyu’s setup, the same room you’ve seen countless times before— you’re able to see it all, from his large computer monitors, his filming camera, to his grandiose bed and the insane amount of toys he keeps on standby. 

You shift restlessly on your feet, entirely bare save for a shirt that Beomgyu let you borrow— another white button-up, the very same one that he loved to wear when he dressed up, now hanging from your figure as he allowed the two of you to freshen up the moment you got to his home. 

Nervously, you had left the shirt completely buttoned up; you watched from behind his camera as he continued to sweet talk his viewers, dressed comfortably in a sweater and sweats, his attire a complete contrast to your own. 

“You’re happy to see me? I don’t believe you,” he smiles, and you feel as though you’re back to being a faceless member of his stream as you press your thighs together, able to hear the way notifications pop up on his computer, all of them signifying a new tip. 

“You know, today’s a pretty special occasion actually,” he begins, pausing to see his comments and the reactions within them, “you’re curious? Do you wanna try something new with me?”

Yes. It’s the only thing he sees in his comments, and he lets out a soft laugh before he’s turning back to his camera.

Then, he’s looking past it.

“Come here, baby.”

You knew this was coming— you agreed to this, for crying out loud, but you still feel as though your legs are made of jello as you hesitate, biting your lip before your eyes are widening nervously, the safe word the two of you established beforehand running through your mind like a mantra you mustn’t forget. 

“Come on, you don’t want to keep them waiting, do you?” he asks, eyes flickering over to his screen, watching the way everyone seems to go haywire from his words, “See? They’re curious, they want to see you.”

You’re taking your first step towards the camera— then another, and another, until you’re walking past the setup, your back facing the camera as you make your way to where he sits at the edge of the bed, unsure of what to do as you remain frozen in front of him.

“What, are you nervous?” he asks, and he’s only able to let out a mean laugh the moment you’re nodding in response, unable to use your voice properly— that’ll change soon, he thinks, reaching for your hands and guiding them to his shoulders. 

“Don’t be,” he whispers, aiming for your thighs next as he’s tugging at them, pleased with the way you let him mold you to his desired position, your thighs on either side of his as you hover over him pathetically, “I know they’ll love you.”

Neither of your full faces can be seen— but the audience can definitely see the way he captures your lips in a harsh kiss, filled with nothing but pure need as he finally gets to feel you properly— you feel as though you’re about to run out air when he finally pulls away, laughing as he feels the way you buttoned every single button of the shirt he gave you. 

“Now why would you do that?” he whispers against your lips, and your fingers dig into his shoulders pathetically as you watch him rip it open— the viewers are going wild at the sight, tipping ridiculous amounts of money just so they can get Beomgyu to see their requests; curiously your eyes drift to his monitor.

You practically collapse at the things you read on the screen.

Finger her. Eat her out. Use a vibrator on her, tie her up, breed her until she can’t walk straight, use a dildo on her— 

The horror comes from the fact that Beomgyu is clearly considering doing all of it.

“What do you think baby?” he asks you, pressing his hand on the small of your back and forcing you to arch into him, your ass perking out and your cunt left to be entirely displayed as he trails his hand up your back, lifting your shirt along with it as he allows the viewers to get a good look at you.

“Anything that piques your interest?” he whispers, your head buried in his shoulder as you shake from the embarrassment of it all, “or…”

You jolt at the way his hand lands a sharp smack on your ass. He’s quick to soothe the area, smiling at the way he takes in the small whimper you let out, burying your face deeper into his shoulder and arching more in response. He lands another one, much more harsher than the last as his hand immediately drifts to your pussy, spreading you for the camera and watching the way you practically glisten under the light. 

“Should I decide how I get to use you for myself?”

He’s a bit surprised to find that you’re quick to nod at his second request, much too shy to even lift your head from where it rests as your fingers dig into his skin. 

He smiles, his eyes drifting back to the monitor as he begins reading over their requests. 

“Hmm, are you shy, princess?” he asks, fingers trailing along your slit, feeling the way your hole flutters at the feeling, wanting nothing more than to feel him inside as you whine quietly, nodding at his words.

“But you’re so fucking wet, and we haven’t even done anything,” slowly, his fingers slip inside— you’re both moaning at the feeling, and Beomgyu thinks that he might just be the one to cum as he feels the way you stretch around his fingers. 

“God, you’re so tight,” he groans, beginning to test out the waters by scissoring you— spreading you out for the camera, watching over your shoulder as your arousal practically leaks out; he gulps, unable to keep his eyes away from the sight as he sighs.

“Feels so soft and warm,” he mutters, placing a kiss on your temple before he’s reaching for something off-screen— the box of toys, you realize, forced to keep your face buried in his shoulder in an attempt to not show your face to his audience. 

“Just like I thought you would be,” he says, smiling against your skin as he murmurs the words into your ear— just for you to hear, not for the thousands of people who are currently watching the stream.

“Do you know what I thought about every time I went live?” he asks, sitting up and shifting so that you’re back in position, shaking your head softly as you feel his fingers begin to circle your entrance. 

“You.” the stretch you suddenly feel has you moaning pathetically, the first sound the viewers are able to hear as the comments begin to fly past— your legs are shaking at the feeling of him slowly pushing the silicone dildo into your pussy, thick and long as you squeeze your eyes shut, feeling tears prick at your eyes from how full you feel.

“I thought of you. Every time.” 

Beomgyu’s eyes are dark as his hand grabs at your ass, spreading your cheeks and showing off the way the dildo begins disappearing into your tight cunt, your arousal already beginning to drip down the toy with every slow thrust of his. 

“Wished you were there every time I would stream. I thought about fucking you the way I would fuck my toys,” his thrusts begin speeding up; you’re a moaning mess against him as you push your ass back, showcasing yourself perfectly and pushing up against the toy that he continues to ram into you— you’re jolting back into him with every thrust, your hands beginning to cramp with how hard you’re holding on to him.

“I would always moan your name too, did you ever notice?”

Your mind goes back to the time you thought you heard it— and, unexpectedly, you’re coming undone, reaching your peak as you respond with a pathetic yes…! The realization that it had all been real much more overwhelming than you thought. 

Beomgyu continues to fuck the toy into you even long after you’re done coming; you’re a whimpering, crying mess against him, the stimulation making your mind muddled as you quietly attempt to get him to stop. 

“Hmm? What do you want baby?” he asks, lips trailing down your neck and to your shoulders, where he begins to slip off your shirt so that you’re more exposed. He remains fully clothed as he begins sucking bruises into your skin, following one of his requests to mark up your pretty skin— his hair falls over his face, covering him momentarily as he begins drifting along your body carelessly.

It’s too much— yet, it’s not enough to have you using your safe word, and the fact makes Beomgyu smile as he bottoms out the toy inside you, grinding it into your pathetic pussy as he watches the way a ring of your cum begins to form around the base. 

“Come on, talk to me. We’re waiting,” you’re hesitant to speak— that much is clear, especially when you know how much traction this stream is currently getting, the sound of tips constant as you shake your head in defeat. 

“No? Okay then,” your shirt is being slipped off, leaving you naked as you wince slightly at the feeling of your garment being removed. Once again, Beomgyu is moving you around, and you’re facing the camera now as your legs are pried open by his own, the toy still stuffed inside you as you sit on Beomgyu’s lap— right on his hard cock, whining softly as you feel him begin to hold your hips down, grinding into you for some release. 

“Don’t wanna use your words? Don’t wanna say anything to me or the viewers?” he tries again, eyes narrowing at the way you remain disobedient and shake your head, laying back against him as you pant softly.

“You’re not gonna thank our viewers for wanting me to please you, you fucking whore?” his hands are swift, and before you realize what he’s doing, your hands are cuffed behind your back, the fuzzy feeling reminding you of the cuffs he uses on himself sometimes. 

“Fine. You wanna be ungrateful, stay quiet?” every sound that leaves your lips is unsure and soft, barely able to reach the microphone of the camera as Beomgyu scoffs at you. “Then stay fucking quiet. I don’t wanna hear a single word from you, understand?”

He doesn’t let you respond— of course he wouldn’t let you— but the way your mouth falls open suggests that you almost went against his command, the vibrator that he now pressed onto your clit making your legs shake with the sudden stimulation, threatening to close before Beomgyu’s own pried you back open swiftly. 

“Look at you. Like a bitch in heat, only thinking about yourself,” he growls, his other hand beginning to thrust the toy back into you at a harsh pace, listening to the sounds of your arousal and the toy smacking against your skin with a satisfied groan, “Do you have any idea how many people wish they were in your place, wish they could be getting fucked stupid instead of having to sit and watch as I do it to you?”

He pauses. Then, he turns up the intensity of the vibrator with a cruel laugh. 

“You would fucking know,” he seethes, taking in the way you writhe against him pathetically, biting at your lip to keep quiet as your hands struggle behind your back, “shit, can’t you hear how pathetic you sound? I bet you were a lot louder when you watched me, just another of my useless viewers that wish that I would fuck you— that I would even fucking acknowledge you.”

Everything that happens next is all a blur— your mind is foggy and you’re coming undone as you feel Beomgyu bite down on your neck, unable to hold back the pure keen of pleasure that rips through you, a string of unintelligible sounds flowing out of you desperately as you cream around the toy, feeling tears sting your eyes the moment Beomgyu decides to turn the intensity up again.

“Take it. I know you can,” he laughs purely because he knows that you have yet to use your safe word. It’s even worse because he’s right, the overstimulation fogging your mind and making you melt in his arms, still able to trust him even if your mind isn’t entirely there.

After a moment, the vibrator is turned off— you can hear him toss it to the side before he’s pulling the dildo out of your aching cunt, your body twitching at the sudden feeling before your cum is oozing out, dripping all over Beomgyu’s sweats and onto his sheets as he merely laughs at you. 

You’re being turned around again— you feel woozy as you cling to Beomgyu, barely capable of hovering over him as he simply looks up at you, his eyes holding that same, innocent puppy-like look that got you trapped in his clutches in the first place.

“I feel so stuffy,” he pouts, tilting his head up at you as you simply whine incoherently in response, “I know baby. Won’t you help me out?” 

It takes you a second to even register his request, your hands suddenly freed by him before you finally realize what he asked; your hands are slow and clumsy as you reach for the hem of his sweater, barely able to tug it up before he’s helping you out— your hands land on his shoulders once more for stability, your gaze falling on his chest and trailing down curiously. 

And there it is. The very tattoo that got you into this mess, though this time you’re free to gawk at it, not paying attention to the way Beomgyu realized he caught you staring until he’s grabbing your hand, placing it on his chest and trailing it down, allowing you to feel him up as he shudders slightly at the feeling.

Your fingers trace over the tattoo. All the way down, following every elaborate line until you’re stopped by the hem of his pants, hands immediately slipping under before you’re tugging them off, pulling off his boxers too as you feel him lift his hips, left just as bare as you before he smiles. 

You feel his cock poking at your entrance, painfully hard as he begins to rub it against your slit; teasing you with the tip, looking over your shoulder to see what his viewers may be saying. 

“What do you think?” He asks, pushing his tip into your cunt before he’s pulling back out. The action has you whining hopelessly, and Beomgyu has to take a second to recollect his resolve, pausing all movements in order to not come then and there.

“Should I fuck her? Does she deserve it?” He asks, looking over at you, cooing softly at the way your eyes remain glassy and fucked out, “Don’t cry. You don’t deserve to cry, not when you’ve been so ungrateful to our viewers.”

A tip catches his attention, and he’s briefly scanning over the amount and request before he’s biting back a smile.

“See? Even though you haven’t said a word to them, they still want to see me fuck you,” he says, taking your hands off his shoulders and leaving you to wobble momentarily as he places your cuffs back on. 

“Aren’t they the sweetest?”

You’re barely able to process what’s going on— all you know is that your position changes within seconds, and your face is buried into the mattress while your ass is up in the air, your legs shaky as you’re barely able to hold yourself up; luckily for you, Beomgyu is there to help, hands grabbing onto your hips before he’s making you lean back. 

His cock is poking at your entrance, and he’s already able to feel the way your cunt tries to suck him in as he passes his tip along your entrance, left entranced with the way you look under him, a complete, ruined mess as you quietly whine out to him, your voice muffled from where your face remained in his sheets.

It’s cute, really, the way you’re able to focus so hard on keeping your face hidden— if you lifted your head now, every single viewer on his screen would be able to drink up your expression as he fucked you— the thought irritates Beomgyu.

He’ll just have to make sure to fuck you until you’re too weak to move. 

“God, you’re such a brat,” he groans out, entering you slowly and feeling the way you clamp onto him dangerously; even with how wet you are, he finds it difficult to fuck you, gritting his teeth and taking a moment where he merely concentrates on not coming inside you then and there. 

“Stop fucking squeezing like that— ah— shit—,” it seems as though your pussy has him going stupid, unable to form a coherent sentence as he slowly pulls out— the whine you let out is long and lethal, so desperate and carnal that Beomgyu finds himself losing control; tightening his hold on your hips, he begins to fuck into you without a care.

“Such a good little pussy,” he grits out, watching the way your ass bounces against him with every thrust, “fuck, wish you’d let me fuck you sooner— would’ve made you mine, wouldn’t be able to get enough of you— god, fuck—!” 

The way you tighten at his words is dangerous. He’s cursing and talking down like he always does, but this time, it’s just for you. The very thought is enough to have you clenching around him again, mouth agape and drooling against his sheets as your sounds get louder. 

Another tip rings through— the same person from before, repeating the only part of their previous request that Beomgyu has yet to fulfill. 

Won’t she say thank you?

The words have him stuttering out a laugh, unable to help the way he moans in between. His thrusts slow, and he’s bottoming out inside you before his motions are nothing but a slow grind, rutting his hips into your aching pussy while he reaches for something off-screen. 

Your whines and soft complaints at the sudden change of pace are brief— because soon after a familiar buzzing sound is filling your ears, and before you can react, the same vibrator form before is pressed against your clit on the highest setting. 

“Gyuuuuu…!” you whine out, long and desperate and incoherent as Beomgyu grabs at your cuffs, using them as leverage to make you slam back into him. His thrusts are brutal and the sound of skin against skin is enough rivalry to the buzzing of the toy as he begins to use the last of his energy to fuck you to your orgasm, watching as the chat buzzes with excitement from your sudden word.

What? What’d she say?? Was that his name? omg?!

“Do you think you deserve to come?” he sneers, his voice gruff as you shake your head, knowing damn well that you haven’t been perfectly compliant to him like he wanted you to be, especially now that you may have just slipped up and let out a personal fact about him.

“Exactly,” he continues, his thrusts toning down in speed, but not intensity— he pulls out to the tip with every thrust, only to slam back into you and have you jolt forward from the harshness of his pace; the vibrator that was once relentless on your clit is now hovering mere centimeters from you, taunting you as all stimulation becomes insignificant to what it was before.

“Maybe, if you’re good for me, I’ll let you come,” he begins, watching the way you can only nod eagerly against the sheets, your hands struggling against your cuffs— he’s holding your hand at the sight, fingers interlocking as he watches you grip onto his hand with both of yours tightly.

“Will you be good for me? Are you gonna listen to whatever the fuck I ask you to do?” he says, his voice hardening at the end as he looks at you expectantly— a second passes before you’re nodding again. 

“My viewers have been so patient with you. The only reason you got all this was because they wanted it— if it were up to me, I would’ve dumped my load in you already and left.” 

That’s a lie— the biggest fucking lie Beomgyu has ever told, knowing damn well that he would’ve done all this and more to you any day, entirely unprovoked. But he knows his viewers love it, and so do you, because your cunt squeezes him so tightly he’s afraid he might just come early. 

“Aren’t you grateful they loved you so much? Hmm?” you’re barely registering his words anymore. But you’re nodding nonetheless, your thighs beginning to shake from the sheer pleasure of feeling Beomgyu rut into your cunt throughout all this. 

“Tell them thank you,” he says sweetly, not giving you enough time to speak before he’s back to fucking you wildly; his pace picking up, aiming for that specific spot that leaves you dumb and drooly as he places the vibrator back on your clit— any chances of sounding sane are thrown out the window as he begins tugging on your cuffs, bouncing you back against him as the wet sounds of his thrusts ring out through the room. 

“Did you hear me—?” he asks, landing a smack to your ass before he’s soothing the area, slowing down so he can smack you again, “I said say thank you. Do you think you’re above us, pretty?”

Your first attempt to speak is a garbled mess.

“Come on, I know you can do better than that. Or— do you just wanna be a cute little cumdump for me—? Ah, let me use you every time I stream… don’t need any fucking toys when I have my pretty doll for me— right—?” His own sentences are becoming more incoherent the longer he fucks you, addicted to the way your pussy practically sucks him in deeper in response. 

“Try again,” he growls, feeling his own orgasm approaching slowly, “show me you’re not a— shit, a fucking brat, and maybe I’ll let you… ugh, let you come.”

Beomgyu swore he got rid of his habit of rambling like this long ago. But, you seem to be able to bring it out of him, his calm and collected speeches crumbling like paper in his mind as he takes in the way both your arousals are smeared over skin and dripping down your thighs, forming a ring around Beomgyu’s cock as he feels his resolve beginning to crumble— he begins to fuck you carelessly, not able to think about anything else but reaching his high as he waits for your response.

“Mmh—! ugh… fuck…” your voice is increasing in volume, the shy person from before long gone as you begin to chase your orgasm, much too afraid to lose it as you try to form a single, coherent thought.

“Thank…. thank you…” you whine out, but it’s all too slurred and quiet and pathetic to Beomgyu as he growls out a sharp what? His hand pressing down on the small of your back as he glues your hands to your skin, forced to take the way he fucks you as you moan out uncontrollably.

“Thank you..! Thank you thank you, oh, fuck—!” holy shit, you’re full on crying right now, reduced to nothing but a mess of moans and tears as you ramble on repeatedly, only able to remember those limited words as you feel Beomgyu come inside you— warm and deep, stilling for just a moment before he’s back to fucking you, his own moans becoming much more needy at the feeling of overstimulation. 

“Thank you thank you thank youuuu, fuck, fuck fuck mmh—!”  you feel stupid. You’ve definitely been fucked stupid, moaning out those stupid thank you’s like a prayer as you feel yourself slumping completely, a boneless, gooey mess as you rely on Beomgyu to hold you up.

He continues to fuck into you slowly, even after you’ve gone entirely still; he thinks you might’ve passed out, but it’s only for a minute before he sees you shifting again, burying your head into the mattress as he hears the distant sound of you sniffling. 

Beomgyu feels concerned for a second, ready to check up on you and end the stream before you’re grabbing his hand again; then you’re clenching around him, mumbling his name so sweetly while you try to press yourself against him.

You’re straight up gone, he realizes, stilling for a moment and waiting for you to use your safe word— but you don’t, and he sees you peeking subtly at his monitor before you’re burying your face back into his sheets.

“You got a new tip.”

The words are barely audible to him, but he’s quick to glance at it upon your request; he almost chokes as he sees the five-hundred dollars that have been sent to him, his eyes reading over the request a few times before he’s looking back at you.

Could you try to make her squirt ?

“It’s five hundred dollars,” you mutter, and all Beomgyu can do is let out a bewildered laugh, leaning down to place a kiss on your shoulder before he’s whispering in your ear if you’re okay to continue— the small nod you give him is enough to have his cock hardening inside you. 

Fuck, he’s gonna give you the aftercare of the century after this. 

[hungryistrying]

why'd you have to go and make me like you

summary:

Jinx just doesn't know how to behave normally around Ekko anymore; how to stop getting so irrationally angry every time someone else tries to vie for his attention; how to get this feeling out of her system. With a gasp, she shoots upright in her bed. Lightning strikes in the distance as, with sudden clarity, Jinx gets hit with an idea on how to fix this…Alright, so lightning didn't actually strike in the distance but Jinx has such a good idea it might as well have. A plan concocts itself in her brain. One that’s perhaps a little insane, but hey, aren’t her best ideas always?

Or: Jinx gets annoyed (not jealous) when girls try to hit on Ekko. Her solution? Fuck the feeling away.

rating: explicit

word count: 7131

status: ongoing

crossposted to ao3

chapter one: denial is a river

Jinx is having a pretty terrible day. She has no classes on Friday, and so she should be enjoying this beautiful afternoon off (well, she has that one eight a.m. lecture on Fridays but who the fuck actually attends those) by lazing the day away in bed watching TikToks on her phone and playing Mario Kart.

Instead, she’s outside sitting in the fucking sun, (like, ew) fighting for her life because her paper’s due in twelve hours and she may or may not have forgotten about it until Vi innocently asked how far along she was last night, giving Jinx a rude awakening.

But really, all of this isn’t even the source of her irritation. No, the actual source of her irritation sits beside her, and helpfully comments, "You're never gonna finish that paper in time," before reaching for a handful of Skittles.

“Oh, shut up,” she snaps, pettily slapping the Skittles out of Ekko’s hand.

He just laughs–bright as the sun stinging in her eyes, with his too-white teeth and those dimples of his that piss her off too–and picks them back up, unfazed by her ire.

“I’m not gonna say I told you so but…” He pauses to chew on the candy. “Yeah, no, I’m saying it. I told you so.”

And sadly, maybe, possibly, just perhaps–he's right. But Jinx is on a high fueled solely by stress, sleep deprivation, caffeine, and adrenaline. And she'll ride it out for as long as she can, dammit.

Does she have any clue what the fuck she’s even writing at this point? No. Does she have enough time to actually read through any of the sources she’s citing in her term paper? Well…also no. But whatever! Beggars and choosers, and all that, right?

"I’m finishing this stupid paper if it’s the last thing I do," she insists, not tearing her eyes away from the screen.

"Alright, let’s bet," he replies, reaching for her drink on the table and dangling it in front of her. "If you don't make the deadline, you can't drink Mountain Dew for a whole month."

Jinx abruptly stops typing, snatching it from his hand so she can down the rest of the drink. She slams the empty can back onto the table with more force than necessary, before turning to him and responding, "One week."

He smirks at that. "So you know you won't make it?"

“I’ll make it, and when I do,” she pauses in consideration before turning her head to him with a grin, “you’ll buy me as much Mountain Dew as I want for a month.”

He raises a skeptical eyebrow, but his voice is amused when he answers, “So let me get this straight, you quit drinking that crap for one week or I have to buy it for you for a whole month?”

“Now you’re getting it, little man!”

“What I’m getting is that you’re a swindler.” He flicks her forehead and starts laughing when she scowls at him. “I’ll meet you halfway, though. If I win, you stop drinking it for two weeks and if you win, I’ll buy you as much gross shit as you want for two weeks.”

Jinx graciously smacks his arm in response. “It’s not gross, you’re just tasteless.” Then she lets out a petulant sigh, and concedes, “...But fine, consider it a deal.”

Ekko smiles at her, warm and sunny. That warmth spreads to her chest, leaving her feeling all weird and fuzzy. Damn it, she’s still supposed to be annoyed with him, but now she can’t stop the corners of her own mouth from rising.

“I can see you smiling, you know.” He pokes at her cheek for emphasis.

“Cut it out,” she grumbles, slapping his hand away, but there’s no real heat behind it and they both know it. “I’m trying to get actual work done here.”

“So let me help,” Ekko insists, scooting closer to her until their shoulders press together. They’re both wearing short sleeves, making his skin press directly against hers. His arm feels broad and solid against hers, warm too. 

The fuzzy feelings are getting worse.

“Oh yeah,” Jinx reaches for a handful of Skittles herself, hoping the burst of artificial sweetness is strong enough to steal her attention instead, “and how exactly are you gonna do that, buster?”

He laughs again. She can feel the vibrations of it traveling from his body through hers. Then he’s slinging his arm over her shoulder, pressing them even closer together, completely foiling Jinx’s attempt without even realizing it.

Honestly, she doesn’t even know what he’s foiling exactly. Because Ekko and her are always close, practically always touching too. Jinx just doesn’t know when it went from something as natural as breathing, to something she’s annoyingly aware of. 

“Well, for starters–”

“Ekko!”

Jinx’s mood plummets at the chipper, teeth-grindingly familiar voice that interrupts him mid-sentence.

Seraphine walks up to their table–looking as bright and sparkly as ever–and it takes everything in Jinx’s power not to chuck the empty Mountain Dew can at her.

“Oh, hey there Jinx!” Seraphine smiles, while Jinx does her very best to glower at her until she hopefully does a one-eighty and leaves. It’s not working but at least Seraphine’s smile becomes more strained, so that ought to count for something.

Jinx can feel the both of them expectantly staring at her, and she’s perfectly content to let them until eventually Ekko subtly shakes her and she begrudgingly spits out, “Hi.”

“What’s up, Sera?” he greets with a nod of his head. Jinx wants to gag at the nickname.

“Oh, I was just…” Seraphine’s eyes briefly flicker toward the arm Ekko still has slung over her shoulder, and Jinx is suddenly filled with the strangest urge to lean deeper into the touch. She pushes the feeling down instead. “Sorry. Am I interrupting something?”

“Nah, I was just–” he abruptly stops when Jinx suddenly pulls away from him, removing his arm from her shoulder. “I was, uh, helping Jinx with her term paper…Why?”

“Oh, it’s nothing!” Seraphine, either oblivious or indifferent to the tension between them, just flutters her eyelashes and smiles at him. "I just recorded some new songs and wanted to see what you think, but it’s no biggie if you don’t have time right now."

Ekko turns to Jinx as he answers, "Yeah, we’re a little busy here. Maybe later?"

Jinx is decidedly not looking at him–at either of them, for that matter. She’s busy focusing on her damn term paper, not on something as stupid as the way Ekko has his arms folded over the table now, showing off his biceps a little too well. 

Nope. She doesn’t even notice it. Instead, she completely ignores that she can still see him from the periphery of her vision, and continues to glare at her laptop screen.

And a treacherous voice in her mind whispers that he's blowing off Seraphine because he pities Jinx; because he feels some stupid sense of obligation to stick by her when she's struggling with something. Even when he’s clearly showing off his arms to Seraphine in some weird peacock-like mating ritual because he wants to date her. Seraphine must want to date him too, if her coy looks and saccharine smiles are anything to go off of.

…Yeah, she remembers why she was annoyed with him now.

Jinx can’t stand the sight of it–her own train of thought adding to her irritation–so she scoffs and turns back to him. “Not like you're much help, anyway. Last I checked, you don’t even think I’ll make the deadline."

"Hey, spite is a good motivator.” He shrugs, his demeanor much too easy-going when Jinx feels herself becoming more razor-edged by the second. “Maybe I’m just helping you out in my own way.”

“Why don’t you help me out some more by leaving so I can concentrate?” she snaps.

His brow twitches at her tone. “What’s with you all of a sudden?”

Jinx can see Seraphine’s eyes nervously darting between them. Ha, as if she wasn’t just looking at Ekko like some lovesick, moon-eyed village maiden. “Look, it’s really not a problem if–”

“It’s fine, just go!” she interrupts.

“Hey,” Ekko puts a hand on her arm and frowns when she pulls away from him, “seriously, what’s up?”

Her stomach twists uncomfortably at the look on his face–his expression troubled at her sudden outburst. Jinx forces herself to take a deep breath through her nose, trying to push down the festering bitterness that’s desperately clawing its way up her throat.

She has a habit of putting her foot in her mouth when she gets upset; a habit her therapist (weekly appointments at Vi’s insistence) has made her painfully and embarrassingly aware of. And she’s trying very hard not to say something that will most likely cause a fight. Because fighting with Ekko sucks, even if pissing him off is rather tempting at the moment.

“Nothing,” she says with more restraint than she feels. “This paper is just…stressing me out a lot. Go. Have fun with Seraphine and leave me alone.”

Jinx turns from him–from them both because she might actually bite someone’s head off if she has to look at their faces right now–frowning at her laptop with feigned concentration, despite her current inability to register any of the words on the page.

A beat of silence. 

“Do you really want me to leave?” he quietly asks.

“Yes.” She sighs, still not looking at him. “I just wanna focus, so go.”

For a moment he doesn’t say or do anything. Jinx is still adamantly staring at her laptop, and honestly, she deserves a fucking medal for not giving in to the urge to face him so she can snap at him and Seraphine.

“Alright,” he says after a while, gathering his things and getting up from their table. “Just hit me up when you wanna hang out again.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she dismissively waves her hand at him, “I’ll be fine. Go have fun yapping about sheet music, you nerds.”

Ekko snorts but doesn’t say anything after that, she briefly feels his hand squeeze her shoulder–the touch warm and steady, just like him–before he asks Seraphine if she wants to go somewhere else.

Seraphine turns back to Jinx to say, “Bye Jinx, good luck on your term paper!” before walking off with Ekko.

Jinx glares daggers at their retreating backs, quickly whipping her head back to her laptop screen when she sees Ekko turn to look back at her. She groans in frustration. This is so damn annoying. Jinx hates acting like this, feels pathetic when she does, but the fact remains that Ekko is popular. Too popular.

And for some reason (that she’s boiled down to forces of the universe hating her guts) he’s always getting hit on when she’s in the vicinity. Ever since he decided to take an elective in musical theory his string of…admirers has grown. Seraphine is only the latest addition to that list. 

Aside from her, Ekko has been getting rather buddy-buddy with the TA too. Sona or something? She always finds an excuse to pull him aside to give him some extra advice because he's "so talented" and "such a promising artist". Whatever that actually means. Jinx is pretty sure that Sona-chick is at least five years older than them too. Ugh. What a cougar.

Then there's Taliyah, an exchange student from…a place Jinx can't be bothered to remember, she was too busy glaring at Ekko to listen to his explanation–

Anyways, Professor Heimerdinger–who must've been dying to give her another reason to hate him–pulled Ekko aside after his lecture and asked if he would be kind enough to show their new student around campus to help her adjust. 

Being the paragon of virtue that he apparently is, Ekko agreed, and so their plans to eat lunch together were canceled. Instead, Jinx ate alone (willingly, at least, Dustin tried to sit with her but he was obviously hungover and stunk of sex and liquor, so she told him to piss off) while watching a moon-eyed Taliyah trail after him. 

And sitting next to him in every class they shared. 

And shyly asking for his number. 

Jinx wasn't sure who she wanted to kill more, herself or Taliyah.

Lastly, the one and only time Jinx let Ekko convince her to go to the gym together, he got hit on rather boldly by some girl, Rell, who had no reservations about letting Ekko know how much she enjoyed the view of him doing pull-ups. Then again, Rell also proceeded to eye up Jinx and asked if she planned to come around more often, so maybe she was just like that with everyone.

The point is, whenever she's hanging out with Ekko someone will inevitably try to make a move on him. And he always just smiles and lets them.

It's disgusting, frankly speaking. 

Jinx doesn't want to witness any of it. She and Ekko are friends for crying out loud, the best of friends, even. Who he's bumping uglies with is none of her business, and she'd love to keep it that way if life would stop screwing with her already.

So the best and only thing she can think of doing is leaving and avoiding him whenever it happens. Because the only alternative is getting mad at him (which ends up happening anyway, so she probably just sucks at that ‘removing yourself from the situation’ thing, sorry doctor Medarda) and okay, maybe that's not fair or rational or whatever but if she's pissed, she's pissed, alright?

Jinx peeks up from her laptop. Once she’s certain they're both gone, she packs all her stuff and gets up and ready to leave.

Knowing Ekko, he'll just come back sooner rather than later, insisting on talking out whatever their problem is–even when Jinx insists there is no problem. God knows it wouldn't be the first time. She's boiled it down to that stupid savior complex of his. Not that he’ll hear of it, stubborn as he is.

When she looks down at the table, she realizes Ekko left behind his bag of Skittles. They're her favorite candy, but not even that can save her horrific mood right now. She glares daggers at the bag, a rather pathetic alternative to glaring at Ekko.

With a frustrated groan, she snatches the candy off the table and stuffs it in her bag too, before she escapes to the one place Ekko wouldn't think to look for her: Zeri's dorm room.

-

Jinx knocks on the door. From the other side, she hears rustling and frantic footsteps. She frowns and knocks again. What the hell is Zeri doing in there?

Calling Zeri and Jinx friends would be the overstatement of the century. It’s more a simple case of: they both grew up in the same neighborhood and have a bunch of mutual friends, so it’s impossible not to know each other. And Jinx occasionally takes advantage of this weird dynamic when she needs to avoid Ekko. Zeri, for all her bitching and moaning, never turns her away. Hey, Zaunites oughta stick together, right?

Time passes and still no one opens the door. The long wait is doing nothing for her already horrid mood. She impatiently bangs on the door again and complains, “Stop dicking around, Zeri, I can hear you!”

A beat of silence. Then the sound of footsteps again, followed by the turning of a lock. Turns out it wasn't Zeri, after all.

“Akali?” she questions, taking in the grumpy, disheveled appearance of Zeri's roommate from where she's peeked her head out the door.

“What the fuck, Jinx?” Akali groans, blocking the view of her room with her body. "Zeri’s not even here."

"Well, I told her I was coming and she said it was cool, so…" She shrugs. Akali doesn’t move. Jinx raises an inquisitive eyebrow and asks, “Are you gonna let me in or what?”

Akali sighs but swings the door open entirely and doesn’t bother waiting for Jinx to follow as she spins on her heel and walks further into the room.

Jinx closes the door behind her, noting the contrast between Zeri’s relatively neat side of the room, opposed to the mess on Akali’s side with a curious frown. It's not as if Jinx herself is the tidiest person in the world, but usually, when she comes here, both girls seem to keep their dorm relatively neat.

Currently, Akali's sheets are completely askew, her duvet half hanging off the bed and pillows littering the floor. A shirt and boots, much too large to be her own, look like they’ve been hastily kicked underneath the bed...Jinx has a feeling she knows why Akali needed so long to open the damn door.

“Were you fucking someone before I got here or something?” she only half-jokes, grabbing one of the bean bags and dragging it to the empty spot between Zeri’s bed and the doorway.

"Don't be ridiculous, you just woke me up,” Akali scoffs, standing in front of her mirror as she straightens out her mussed-up hair. “Why are you even here?”

Jinx rolls her eyes at Akali’s unsubtle attempt to change the topic, but answers nonetheless, "I gotta finish my paper and I got nowhere else to go."

Because Ekko might find Jinx if she goes to the library instead. That's none of Akali's business, though.

Akali hums at her answer. Seemingly satisfied with her hair–not that Jinx can see a difference–she sits down on her bed, tapping her fingers against the bed frame and staring Jinx down before she asks, “So…how long are you staying?”

Jinx suspiciously squints at her. Oh, she was definitely fucking someone before she got here. That or she’s hiding a body somewhere in here. Either way, this is set up to be prime entertainment for Jinx. “I hang out here all the time. What's your issue all of a sudden?"

"Nothing," Akali says, but her shifty gaze and the nervous taps of her foot on the hardwood floor say otherwise. "Just curious.”

A muffled bang startles them both, their heads whipping toward the source of the noise: Akali’s closet. 

Their eyes meet. Jinx gives her a knowing look while Akali buries her head in her hands and groans.

"Just curious, huh?" Jinx rushes to open the closet door before Akali can stop her.

The guy hiding inside startles, hastily pulling his pants up, before whipping his head in Jinx’s direction, staring at her like a deer caught in the headlights.

"Uh, hi–" he blurts, stumbling out of the closet, "I'm Kayn?"

Jinx raises an unimpressed eyebrow, eyeing the Kayn-fellow up and down from his long black hair to his very exposed and chiseled torso. 

She shrugs, and says to Akali, “Least he's hot.” 

Kayn opens his mouth to retort, but before he can, Akali cuts through, "Thanks, I know. Now you,” she reaches for the shirt and boots underneath her bed and tosses them to him, “can go.”

He barely catches both before Akali has the door open and is pushing him out. Before she can close it, Kayn turns to her with a hopeful gleam in his eyes and says, “I’ll call you.”

Akali huffs an amused breath, shaking her head. “Why don’t you put on a shirt first?”

He grins at her, the both of them seemingly forgetting about Jinx. “See you around, Akali.”

“Yeah. Bye, Kayn,” Akali replies, her voice softening to a tone entirely foreign to Jinx, before she closes the door and turns back to her.

Jinx raises an amused eyebrow at Akali, who just rolls her eyes and grumbles, "Save it," before flopping back down on her bed. “Damn cockblocker…”

"Cockblocker, huh? So you knew about the guy hiding in your closet while you were sleeping or…?" Jinx teases, because, come on, how can she not?

"Haha, yeah, fine. I wasn't asleep. Happy now?" Akali groans.

"Extremely," she confirms, sitting down and reaching for her laptop. "So, that your man?"

Akali scoffs. "Who? Kayn? Don't be ridiculous.”

Jinx raises a skeptical eyebrow at her response. After that little Romeo and Juliet show by the door? Yeah, she's not buying it. Then again, she couldn't care less either way, so with a shrug, she turns her laptop on. "Whatever you say, toots."

Akali rolls her eyes but doesn't deign to respond. She simply moves to lie on her stomach and takes her phone from the nightstand.

Silence falls over the room–only broken up by the occasional tapping of Jinx's keyboard–and neither Jinx nor Akali seems inclined to break it. It's not as if they have anything to talk about. Their acquaintance is limited to the fact that they both know Zeri.

…But goddammit, Jinx is curious and there's an elephant in the room begging to be addressed.

"Oh come on, there's no way that's not your boyfriend," she insists, snapping her laptop shut.

"And yet," Akali counters, not even looking away from her phone, "he isn't."

"Really now?" Jinx says. "You're unusually nice to someone who’s just a fuck-buddy."

"And you're unusually nosy," Akali snaps, finally turning her head to glare at her.

They say curiosity killed the cat, and there must be some truth behind that because Akali certainly looks ready to kill. Jinx just gives her a sunny smile and opens her laptop again.

She’s already made peace with the fact that she'll never know what's up with Akali and her….whatever he is. Then Akali suddenly clears her throat and says, “It wouldn't work out anyway.” A beat of silence. "But he is hot so I'm just…getting him out of my system, I guess."

“Oh,” Jinx eloquently responds. Look, she was just being a little shit, alright? She hadn't actually expected Akali to open up about the thing.

"Well, I told you mine so tell me yours," she continues. "What's going on with you and your boyfriend?"

Jinx blinks, puzzled. “My who?”

“Your boyfriend? Zeri's always bitching about you two.” Akali looks nonplussed, like Jinx is the crazy one here for not knowing about her nonexistent boyfriend. “What’s his name again? Something with an E, right?”

Jinx gapes. Wait, is…is she talking about Ekko? Before she can retort, however, the door slams open.

"Oh my god, Kali, why did you let me take an elective in statistics?" Zeri groans in lieu of a greeting, unceremoniously dropping her backpack by the entrance. She only seems to notice Jinx after shutting the door. With a frown, she asks, “Wait– Jinx? What did Ekko do now?”

“Nothing!” Jinx insists, perhaps a little too intently for it to sound casual, before pointing an accusatory finger at Akali. “Why does she think we’re dating?”

Zeri turns to Akali, offended. “You think I would date this lunatic?!”

“Not you, dumbass!” Jinx reaches up to grab one of the Poro plushies at the foot of Zeri’s bed–nearly dropping her laptop in the process–before tossing one at her head. “I mean Ekko and me!”

The plushie bounces off Zeri’s head, who just scowls and argues, “Then you should’ve worded it better!” She picks the plushie off the floor and hurls it back at Jinx, who takes it straight to the face with an indignant squawk. “And don’t throw shit at me!”

Still lounging on her bed, Akali raises a curious eyebrow. “Wait. So they’re not dating? Seriously?”

Zeri scoffs, kicking off her shoes before moving to sit down on her own bed, opposite Akali’s. “If only! Maybe they’d finally stop being so annoying if they were.”

Jinx flushes–whether of anger or embarrassment, she isn’t sure. “You assholes know I can hear you, right?”

“We know,” they respond in unison. Jinx hopes they both trip over a ledge and twist their ankle.

“Okay, so go ahead and explain why you’re here then,” Zeri challenges. “Definitely has nothing to do with you avoiding Ekko for the billionth time this month, right?”

“I’m not avoiding Ekko!” Jinx insists, pointing down at her laptop screen. “I’m trying to finish my term paper, actually.”

“And you have to do that in our room because…?” Zeri trails off, seemingly unbothered by Jinx's obvious irritation.

Well, Jinx isn't unbothered. In fact, she's extremely bothered. And she doesn't exactly get why she's bothered, which just bothers her more.

“Because–” She blanks. Fuck. Stupid Zeri with her stupid fucking questions. Then, with utmost seriousness, she continues, “Because this room has a great aura…for studying.”

They're not wrong when they say one look can speak a thousand words because the skeptical yet amused looks she gets from both Zeri and Akali are honestly worse than any rebuttal they could’ve come up with.

“Oh, fuck you guys.” Jinx turns to her laptop again, the screen having gone dark after she's neglected it for so long.

God, she really does need to work on that term paper or she's screwed. If Jinx misses this deadline she'll have to suffer through Heimerdinger's lectures for another semester. And even worse, Ekko would be right. Which is already bad enough in itself, but also means she can't drink Mountain Dew for two whole weeks.

Of course, she can’t even attempt to do that, because from the bed, Zeri frowns at her phone and says, “Yup, now Ekko's texting me if I know where Jinx is. Who would've thunk it, right?”

Panic grips her, and before she can think better of it, she blurts, “Don't tell him!” 

Zeri and Akali both turn to look at her incredulously. Oh fuck. 

Jinx shuts her laptop with a long-suffering sigh. “...Okay, fine, I'm avoiding Ekko. Big deal! You guys never need space from your friends or something?”

In a disgusting turn of events, it's Akali who responds, “Whatever you say, toots,” because she’s evil and Zeri is a snitch who Jinx never should’ve trusted with any sort of personal information. 

She should’ve just done the reasonable thing: steal Caitlyn’s credit card and stay at various cheap motels over the course of the school year until everyone hopefully forgets about her existence (or until Caitlyn blocks the credit card).

“Susmaryosep,” Zeri groans, climbing off the bed to stand in front of Jinx, “I swear it's always the same shit with you two…”

Jinx's brow twitches in irritation. She stuffs her laptop into her bag before rising to her feet, and arguing, “Well, why do you care?!”

“I don't!” Zeri rebukes, frustration twisting her expression. “You guys just keep making your problems my problem! I swear…I should just lock you two in a supply closet somewhere. Maybe you'd stop being so annoying if you just boned it out like normal people.”

Jinx is not entirely sure the sound that leaves her throat is human. “I– Wha–” She spins on her heel to face Akali, face hot with indignation. “Are you hearing this right now?!”

“I have no stakes in this,” Akali shrugs, “I'm just here for the free entertainment.”

“Oh come on.” Zeri puts her hand on Jinx’s shoulder–rolling her eyes when Jinx immediately slaps it away–and sighs. “Look. Jinx. Friend-but-not-really-friend. Whatever’s going on with you and Ekko, you gotta fix it–”

“There’s nothing to fix!”

“–I’m being serious here!” Zeri grabs her shoulders so tightly it startles Jinx into silence. “Ekko’s not gonna say anything because he’s just as stubborn as you, but something’s gotta give! You get upset and avoid him, and then he gets upset that you’re avoiding him, and then I’m the one who’s gotta deal with you both!”

Zeri stops to take a deep breath and gather herself, before she finishes, “Now go fix it yourselves or…or I won’t let you into my room anymore, kuha mo?”

Don’t put your foot in your mouth, she desperately thinks, digging her nails into her fist, hard enough to sting–a last-ditch effort to keep herself from snapping. But it’s not working. The irritation that’s been simmering in her chest, boils over into pure rage. Because, seriously, who the fuck does Zeri think she is?

Jinx can’t deal with this right now. Any of it. She can’t deal with Zeri’s tired interrogations; with both her and Akali’s eyes on her like pinpricks on her skin; with that stupid deadline looming over her head; with all these shiny-eyed, pretty girls drooling after Ekko.

“Let me make it easier for you then,” Jinx eventually grinds out, yanking herself free of Zeri’s grip and grabbing her bag before she storms out of the room.

“Seriously?!” she hears Zeri yell from the doorway. 

Without turning back around, Jinx flips her off and keeps walking.

-

So Jinx’s prospects of successfully finishing that term paper in time are looking pretty damn bleak. After Zeri pissed her off, she’d taken the bus home (putting her phone on silent because Zeri wouldn’t stop fucking calling) stomped straight into her bedroom, slammed the door shut, and tried to channel that anger into productivity somehow.

Sadly, Jinx’s strategy had been woefully ineffective because her temperamental mood just gave her brain fog instead. Which left her staring at the page rather unproductively for much longer than she’d like to admit.

In a stroke of genius and exhaustion, she decided to corrupt the file instead and send it as is. There, by the time the old coot realizes he can’t open the document, she’d have plenty of time to actually finish her paper (hopefully).

Her anger eventually begins to set like the late evening sun, leaving her staring at the ceiling–painted in hazy hues of reds and oranges from the light spilling in through the windows–while she contemplates everything Zeri had said to her.

Now that her anger has waned, Jinx can begrudgingly admit (at least in her head) that Zeri might be onto something…She’s still going to ignore her texts and calls, though. Because even if she has a point, she’s still a nosy traitor who had no reason to air out Jinx’s business like that.

Jinx buries her face in her hands, smothering a cry of frustration. Seriously, what the fuck is she even supposed to do about this situation? She’s ignored one too many of Ekko’s texts to pretend everything is still normal. Not to mention, not talking to him just plain sucks.

With a sigh, Jinx pats the side of her bed until she eventually grasps her phone, turning the sound back on, opening the messenger app to see what he has sent her (still dutifully ignoring Zeri's messages at the very top of her notifications).

SAVIOR BOY  Hey i came back after i was done helping Sera but u werent around? U in the library? Ok i dont see you in the library either… Are u busy? Hmu when u wanna hang

Guilt squeezes at her heart until it hurts, but unfortunately feeling bad hasn't done her any favors. Because she knows that whatever she's feeling isn't rational, knows that she's being unfair – but what is she supposed to do with knowing? It hasn't stopped her from feeling the way she does every time she's around Ekko. 

He's still her best friend, though, and...Jinx honestly wouldn't know what to do with herself if he ever stopped being her best friend. Maybe the way she’s acting will prove to be the final straw, that which finally makes him tire of and give up on her.

Jinx just doesn't know how to behave normally around him anymore; how to stop getting so irrationally angry every time someone else tries to vie for his attention; how to get this feeling out of her system.

With a gasp, she shoots upright in her bed. Lightning strikes in the distance as, with sudden clarity, Jinx gets hit with an idea on how to fix this…Alright, so lightning didn't actually strike in the distance but Jinx has such a good idea it might as well have.

A plan concocts itself in her brain. One that’s perhaps a little insane, but hey, aren’t her best ideas always? Jinx bites her lip and turns the idea over in her head. Zeri might be an idiot but…that stupid joke she made about “boning it out” hadn’t been too off-track.

Besides, isn’t Akali doing something similar? Something something about getting it– him (Kayle or whatever his name was, not important anyway) out of her system. 

Maybe that's what she needs. Maybe she should just take a page out of Akali's book and try…to get Ekko out of her system, so to speak, so she can start acting normal around him again instead of ruining their friendship.

….No. That's ridiculous. Sacrilegious even. Ekko's her friend, her best friend at that. They can't, they shouldn't–

Jinx collapses back on the bed, lifting up her pillow and smothering her face in it so she can scream into the void.

As if tuned into her misery, her phone vibrates beside her. Curiosity gets the better of her and Jinx decides to take a momentary pause from self-strangulation to check what it is. It better not be Zeri again.

SAVIOR BOY ? U know your read notifs are on right? Are you mad at me?

…Maybe it would've been better if it was Zeri. She locks her phone again and sighs in frustration.

Alright relax Jinx, what could one hook-up between friends really hurt? 

The thought makes her think back on her first hook-up, nose wrinkling at the memory. Born mostly out of curiosity–and a desperation to just lose her damn virginity already after high school graduation–Jinx thought it was awful. She washed her hands off the experience and concluded the whole sex and dating thing just wasn't for her, ‘cause she sure didn't get the hype behind it all.

…Okay, well, she reached that conclusion after trying a few more times, just in case. Her ideas just seem much better when she’s drunk, alright? And though the encounters weren’t as disastrous as her first time, she still didn’t get it.

But, hey, say she and Ekko hook up (which still feels blasphemous to even consider) and the sex is bad, wouldn't that be better? Surely a bad hook-up would get this weird and uncomfortable feeling out of her system, right? Somehow, that thought makes her feel vaguely disconcerted– 

But that’s not important right now, she's getting ahead of herself. Jinx can go back and forth on this all she wants, but unfortunately, it takes two to tango. So the most important step in getting Ekko to sleep with her is probably getting him to want to sleep with her. 

Then again, that couldn't be so hard, could it? He’s still just a man at the end of the day. Sure, she doesn't have a figure like Sona's, a face like Rell's, or Taliyah's height, for that matter. And she may have freckles and dark circles compared to Seraphine's clear, unblemished skin but–

Okay, that actually made her feel way worse but the point is, it can't be that hard to seduce a guy, right? Even if it's Ekko.

…Fuck it.

Frustrated, Jinx reaches for her phone and shoots Ekko rapid-fire replies before she can think better of it.

You ok 1 im NOT mad i was working on my paper dur 2 stop stalking my read notifs 🔫🔫 and 3 lets hang tmrw  afternoon @ my place wanna study chem together?

Alright, that’s one thing out of the way. She breathes a sigh of relief, a weight lifting off her shoulders, and tosses her phone back down beside her.

There’s no point in checking her texts again. She knows Ekko and knows there's no way he’ll decline her proposition. It's the other proposition she intends to give him on the day itself that has her worried.

Jinx rolls around to lie on her side, sighing as she hugs her pillow to her chest for a semblance of comfort that she’s too embarrassed to seek out from Vi or, god forbid, Caitlyn.

…Oh shit, she needs to get Vi and Caitlyn out of the house tomorrow.

-

"Sooo," Jinx starts as nonchalantly as she can, while heating hot chocolate in a pan, "finally Saturday, am I right? You lovebirds got any exciting plans for today?”

Vi frowns in consideration as she chews on her pancakes, not bothering to swallow the food down before she replies, "Not really, why?"

"Oh, no reason, really," Jinx says super casually. Just as she very casually pours the hot chocolate into two cups, one for her sister and the other for her dumb girlfriend. She’s even made sure not to put whipped cream on Caitlyn's drink because she doesn't like the taste.

When she sets them down on the counter, they both eye the cups incredulously. Caitlyn even sniffs the drink, as if–somewhere between the journey from the stove to the kitchen island–Jinx had somehow laced it with poison. 

She rolls her eyes at the dramatics. Okay, at some point she may have totally considered poisoning Caitlyn. But as it currently stands, if Jinx wanted the woman to drop dead, she wouldn't have moved in with her and Vi, for crying out loud.

Vi moves her suspicious gaze from the hot chocolate to Jinx. "What are you up to, Pow?"

"Nothing," Jinx innocently assures, avoiding eye contact as she plays with one of her braids, "it's just that I was gonna invite Ekko over for a study session, and I was worried it might be…distracting if you guys are around."

"Oh, okay.” Vi shrugs, going for another bite of her pancakes. 

Then her head whips back up to look at Jinx, so fast it’s a miracle it didn’t go flying off her neck. 

“Oh– Oh my god, Jinx," Jinx flinches as Vi's utensils hit the counter with a clang and squirms under her sister’s heavy, concerned gaze, "please tell me you have condoms."

"Ew, what the hell, Violet?!" Jinx flushes at her sister's assumption. Even if she has, embarrassingly enough, reached the right conclusion.

"Don’t ‘Violet’ me!” she argues, her hands flying as she talks, the way they always do when she gets upset. “This is important! If you’re old enough to have sex, you gotta be old enough to use a condom too because I am not about to become an aunt at the ripe age of twenty-four. Does Ekko–"

"Vi!" she interrupts, burying her head in her hands. God, this is so fucking mortifying. "We're just studying."

Vi gives her a pointed look that makes Jinx nervously bite down on her lower lip. Vi just insistently keeps staring her down, raising a single, disbelieving eyebrow. The silence feels heavy, and eventually, Jinx breaks under the pressure.

With a groan, she reluctantly supplies, "...Yes, I have condoms. And I’m on birth control! Which you know."

Vi sighs in relief, picking up her knife and fork again, and casually slicing into her pancakes as she says, "Good, we'll be out of your hair, then."

Seated beside her, Caitlyn simply groans as she sets down her now-empty cup of hot chocolate, and says, "I really did not want to witness this conversation first thing in the morning."

-

It’s already well past noon when Vi and Caitlyn finally make their way out of the house (with Vi making assured proclamations that they won’t return until very late, making Jinx want to scream). Once she recovers from the mortification of having an older sister who knows she’s about to (attempt to) have sex, Jinx rushes to her bedroom and considers what her next step should be. 

Because it occurred to her, perhaps belatedly, that she has no fucking clue how to actually seduce someone. In her defense, this isn’t something she actively has to worry about whenever she’s drunk. She considers, momentarily, whether or not a little liquid courage would do her any favors.

Then she remembers that just last week Ekko had found her shit-faced and passed out at some dingy frat party with her cheek glued to a toilet seat (which she knows happened because the fucker texted her a picture of it the next day when she refused to believe him) before he had to haul her ass home, and thinks better of it.

She decides to start simple by taking a shower, during which she spends an embarrassingly long time scrubbing her skin raw and shaves more thoroughly than she ever has in her entire life.

Once she’s out of the shower, insecurity creeps its way into her mind as she does her skincare routine. She doesn’t want to do it, but still can’t stop herself from critically assessing her body during the process. Something sinks in her chest when she finds it lacking.

Jinx knows she’s not a supermodel by any means. She’s short and skinny, with pallid skin littered with so many scars that they disrupt the ink of her tattoos–but she generally doesn’t give a shit about any of that. In fact, most days she thinks she’s pretty damn hot.

So why is it that now of all times her body is making her doubt her own attractiveness?

…Why is it now that she’s worried whether or not Ekko even finds her attractive?

Fuck, this is so annoying. Can’t her brain just work with her when she needs it to? Jinx futilely tries to push these feelings down, instead, she rakes both her closet and brain over what to wear.

Should she try to dress cute? What if she does and Ekko thinks she’s weird? But what if she’s dressed too casually and he won’t even consider sleeping with her? …Then again, has he ever considered it?

Okay, shit, she has to focus.

She closes her now nearly empty closet and turns back to her room with a frustrated sigh. Her bedroom looks like it survived an explosion, a wreckage of clothing everywhere, from her desk to her bed to…the bookshelf…somehow?

Jinx petulantly kicks at one of her jeans on the floor and redirects her efforts to drying her hair instead. God knows that’s already a chore and a half. She hasn’t cut her hair since middle school and it shows. The full length of it reaches her thighs and gets in the way of practically everything if she doesn’t dutifully braid it.

When it’s finally all dry, Jinx is in the midst of putting her hair in a simple, thick braid when her phone vibrates beside her. She taps the screen to read the message and nearly has a heart attack when she does.

SAVIOR BOY Hey  Be there in 30 min

[aoioozora]

Simon.

Part 5

Chapters Masterlist

Character: Simon Riley / Ghost Content: Biker! Ghost x Fem! Reader, strangers to lovers, fluff, civilian au

Note: Enjoy Simon being a gentleman in this part 😉. I can't find a nice pic to post here so maybe I'll skip that. Anyway, just wanted to let y'all know that in this fic, reader is 25 years old and Simon is 28.

“I hate to sail on this rotten tub, leave her Johnny, leave- oi, ye cannae be serious. Take off that mask!”

Johnny's singing was interrupted by Simon, who was just entering his living room, dressed and ready to leave to meet ____. He looked at the agitated Johnny, who was now sitting up straight on the couch. 

“What d'you mean?” Simon asked, pretending not to have understood or heard his friend. 

“The maaask. Take it off,” Johnny ordered, gesticulating wildly, “Why'd ye want tae wear it if ye showed yer face to her already?”

Simon rolled his eyes, now taking off the mask, making Johnny smile. He settled back on the couch comfortably. “That's more like it. Oh, also… Catch.” Johnny stuffed his hand in his pocket and threw something at Simon, which he caught. 

It was a condom. 

“Johnny! I don't fucking need this!” Simon roared, throwing back the contraceptive, which hit his friend in the face and fell on his lap. 

“Ye don't? So yer gonna rrrrrawdog her then, are ye, ye animal?” Johnny smirked, clearly trying to annoy Simon, especially by rolling his r's more than usual.

“Johnny…” Simon's voice lowered to a threatening growl. 

The room thundered with Johnny's laughter; having known Simon too long, he wasn't threatened by him, but he relented regardless, not wanting him to be in a bad mood before meeting his crush. “Okay, okay, if ye have nae use for a condom, I have something better for ye.” He beckoned his friend to sit with him on the couch. 

“This better be good.” Simon narrowed his eyes, noting a mischievous glint in his best friend's eyes as he sat down. 

“She's an author, yeah? Those book lassies will love this. I'll tell ye.” 

In the meantime, Simon's crush found herself in front of her mirror getting dolled up by her best friend, Lindsey, who turned the bathroom into a university lecture hall. 

“Tell you what, babe,” said she as she very lightly brushed some blush on her friend's cheeks, “Boys will never make the first move, yeah? So you have to openly flirt with them, right? You literally have to hold up a sign at them telling them you're interested.” 

____ tried to chuckle, but Lindsey lightly slapped her shoulder. “Don't move yet,” she ordered, throwing her long, curly red hair over her shoulder. 

Lindsey finished up the simple, natural looking makeup look and spritzed some setting spray on her friend's face. ____ still didn't dare move, because Lindsey was checking for any mistakes, scanning with her big green eyes. A bit of an odd thing to do, especially after putting the setting spray. 

“Lovely!” she exclaimed, slamming down the can of setting spray on the bathroom counter, “Now you can move.” 

While ____ admired herself and Lindsey's makeup skills in the mirror, Lindsey watched, her smile slowly disappearing; her shoulders slumped slightly as she moved behind her friend, giving her a worried look in the mirror. 

“What's wrong, Linny?” she asked, noticing the look. 

“This Simon guy… Is he really good?” Lindsey whispered, lightly squeezing the other's shoulders while glancing at the phone on the bathroom counter. “He's not like the other guy, right?” 

____’s brows furrowed slightly. She placed her hand over Lindsey's and squeezed it. “Don't worry, Simon's nice, and we're actually a lot closer in age, if that's what worries you.” 

Lindsey was relieved about the smaller age gap, but didn't look completely convinced. She said, “He's nice so far. You do know that a crush is a lack of information, right?” 

The only infuriating thing about Lindsey was how she could get a little too realistic. 

____ sighed. “Linny, that's the whole reason why I'm going to hang out with him: to find out if he's better than nice.”

Lindsey huffed, but nodded anyway. “Okay, but if anything happens, you know who to call.” 

“You worry too much.” 

“Because you're literally so hopeless when it comes to men.” Lindsey let out a chuckle as she lovingly wrapped her arms around her friend's neck and gave her a back hug. ____ leaned into it, grateful for the concern of her ever worrying friend. 

It was soon time to leave. The two ladies headed downstairs to the entrance of the building, where ____ was to wait for Simon to pick her up. Since Lindsey had other plans, she couldn't wait with her friend, and had to go. 

And so did ____ wait by herself, watching the cars go by on the glistening, wet streets. The night air was cold from an earlier rain, and the jacket in her hands seemed to be calling her to wear it and feel warm. 

“I hope he won't find it weird if I wear his jacket,” she thought as she put the garment on after much mental debate. The warmth immediately silenced her thoughts, and she just decided to enjoy it while it lasted. 

Before long, Simon pulled up to the entrance, but the pillion was occupied by an unfamiliar man with a cheeky smile and a short, dark brown mohawk. As he got off, he whispered something to Simon and then turned around. The man grinned at the waiting lady and then walked off. She, confused, returned the gesture with a little smile of her own and then walked up to Simon. 

“Who was that?” she asked as soon as she was near the motorcycle. 

“Don't mind him. He's my friend, Johnny. I had to drop him off around here since he had some stuff to do, so…” he shrugged. “Were you waiting long?” 

She smiled. “Not at all. I came out just five minutes ago.” 

“Brilliant,” he said with a nod and then took notice of her outfit. “You're wearing my jacket,” he observed, sounding amused. 

She noticed his cheeks going up from behind his mask; a smile. “Uh, yeah,” she answered, blushing a little, “I'm sorry, I felt a little cold so I put it on.” 

“No worries.” His voice mellowed as he stared at her, taking in the sight of her in his jacket, “Keep it on. You look good in it.” 

“Thanks,” she grinned, now taking hold of his shoulder as she got up on the pillion. 

Johnny was in the distance, watching the two with wide smiles. He even managed to secretly snap a few photos of them as they talked so that he could tease Simon with it later. 

“Hey you! Delete that picture right now!” a high pitched voice ordered behind Johnny, making him flinch in surprise. 

He immediately turned around, but saw nobody. But when he looked down, he saw a little lady in front of him, arms crossed and staring at him with furrowed brows. 

Johnny, for a moment, was taken in by her beauty. Her pale face was dotted with red freckles, more intense on her cheeks, and her hair was a deep red like the color of the setting sun, loosely coiled like curled satin ribbons. Her flashing eyes were a light green, the color of grass reflecting evening sunlight.

It took a moment for him to regain himself, and when he did, he cleared his throat, saying, “Lassie, that's my friend there,” he answered, pointing to Simon, “I'm gonna tease him with this photo. I'm no’ gonna delete it.” 

“And that girl with him is my friend,” she declared, “And I don't really trust that guy she's going out with today.” 

Johnny wasn't sure what prompted her to say that, but his eyebrows rose with intrigue anyway.

“Small world,” he remarked and then put forward a proposal with a wide grin, “Tell ye wit, wee lassie, we can dae something together. Let's both stalk them. Ye get to see my lad Simon in a good light, and I get to take some candids of them, yeah? Wit dae ye think?” He opened both his hands out to her and batted his eyelids, hoping she would accept. 

“No!” she exclaimed, crossing her arms, “It's not good to stalk.” 

Johnny groaned. “But dinnae ye want tae see if Simon is good for yer best friend? This is a win-win situation! I can show ye all his good points!” 

“You're only saying that because you're his friend,” she challenged. 

“No, no, listen here lassie,” he waved his hand, now meeting her eye, “I've known Simon since we were wee lads. I know everything about him, and I can assure ye that he's good. Let him have a chance, won't ye?”

The little lady paused. Was she going to trust him? While she wanted her friend to be happy, she didn't want to sabotage her friend's chances with her crush because of her incessant worrying. 

Johnny could see her mental debate and smirked at how funny her thoughtful face looked; it was a sneer with furrowed brows, while her fingers tapped over her crossed arms. She eventually relented. 

“Perfect! Now we go stalk them.” He held out his hand to her. “By the way, I'm John, or Johnny.”

She cautiously took his hand and shook it, answering, “Lindsey.” 

Simon and ____ already reached the restaurant they decided to have dinner in. He led her to a quieter part of the establishment where they could chat in peace, and just as she was about to pull out her chair to sit, he held out his hand to stop her. 

“Allow me,” he smiled and pulled out the chair for her. 

Her face glowed with joy and excitement at this display of chivalry as she sat down. Her reaction made him smirk to himself, mentally thanking Johnny for this important tip. 

“You're such a gentleman,” she praised, smiling widely as she watched him take his seat opposite to her, “I know we're in the age of the strong, independent woman, but wow, it's actually really nice to be treated like this.”

Her blushes were encouragement enough, and he smiled. 

“Thank you, I try,” he bragged. “Do you normally like this sort of thing? Or do you like it from me?” he asked with a chuckle, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the table. 

She laughed, not yet willing to admit that she liked it especially from him. She answered, “I like it generally. It’s just nice to know that someone is thoughtful enough to do a gesture like that, you know? Even though it was the standard back in the day.”

Simon took mental note of that. 

Any further conversation was interrupted when a waiter brought them two menus and glasses of water. While the two pored over the laminated card to decide what to get, the lady was momentarily distracted by the sight of the man in front of her. 

He wore a black button up shirt, the sleeves of which were rolled up his thick forearm, the rest of it tightening around his flexed biceps; the unbuttoned collar displayed his neck and a metal chain underneath, which made her wonder what was dangling at the end of it. He wore blue chinos, and black sneakers. It was the best casual outfit he could put together with Johnny's help. 

The outfit, in addition to his handsome, unobscured face was a treat to sore eyes. She couldn't help but allow her eye to linger on the curious scar on his cheek, and to wonder about the cause of it. 

Simon noticed her gaze and he met her eyes with a cheeky smile. “You're staring,” he told her. 

One corner of her lip tugged upwards in a sheepish smirk. “I was just thinking your outfit looks really nice.” 

“Thank you, I try,” he echoed his earlier line with a smirk and a proud shrug, but really, he would've been hopeless without Johnny giving him such meticulous advice on the basic rules of dressing well. “You look nice too,” he decided to turn the tables on her, “Especially wearing that.” He pointed at his jacket that she was still wearing. 

She blushed at that. “I can't take it off. It's nice and toasty in here.” 

“I don't mind you wearing it for the rest of the evening, so long as you give it back later. It's my favourite.” 

She grinned. “I'll take good care of it.” 

The waiter came by again, and the two placed an order for a 12 inch pizza to share and some drinks.

Small talk was made, until it led to the topic of her novel. 

“I only just finished reading Firefly Trails a couple days ago and I must say that you're a brilliant author,” Simon praised, “I could not have expected a plot twist when Adelheid was betrayed by Elystran just to get a hold of the magical fireflies.”

The lady snorted proudly and jokingly patted herself on the back. “You can count on me to make a good plot twist.” 

“No, but seriously. I really didn't see it coming,” Simon leaned forward slightly with eagerness twinkling in his dark eyes, “You see a friend betraying someone all the time in the media, yeah? But this one was so unexpected, especially when Elystran stole the bottle of captive fireflies from Adelheid. It's really awful how he had no remorse in potentially letting her die without a cure for her disease, just so he could save the kingdom he was going to rule. He was a very convincing actor.”

She found herself gazing at him as he went on with his long winded speech about Elystran, the anti-hero of her novel, who pretended to be Adelheid's close ally. It was heartwarming to her to see his enthusiasm for her work, but she also wondered if he resonated with Elystran in some way. 

Simon's pale face was a little pink with exertion after the speech and he finally sat back, tugging at his collar and flapping his shirt. “A bit hot in here, innit?” he asked. 

“The air con is working just fine. I think it's because of your passionate speech that you're feeling so hot,” she said with a grin. 

Simon's pink face turned a hint more pink at the observation. He was usually reserved with people he knew a little less, but he hadn't realised how passionate and talkative he had gotten about a fictional character. He could attest this to the fact that she wrote so well as to stir his normally taciturn feelings. Art never stirred his soul, but if hers did, he was damned. 

He nodded, admitting, “Well, it was because you write so well. Anyone who doesn't talk so passionately about it is missing a few bolts.”

The high regard in the compliment made her giggle. She rested her chin on her hand and looked teasingly at him, saying, “So, you told me that you're getting more into reading thanks to Firefly Trails.” 

“I never wanted to be a reader, but it's all your fault now that you're turning me into one.” Simon unconsciously mirrored her as he smirked, returning her look with his playful sarcasm.

“I'm honored,” she grinned at him, “Do you want recommendations for more books?” 

Simon pulled out his phone and opened the notes app. He handed the phone to her. “Fill my cup, darling.”

A wide smile graced her face as she excitedly snatched the phone and started typing away her list of recommended books. Simon watched her with wonder, smiling at her enthusiasm. He was truly interested in reading now, thanks to her, and to see her so excited about suggesting him more made him feel loved, in a way. 

And the love of a woman was truly something different, even if it was just platonic. 

He sighed as he stared at her, at how focused she was on typing out the list. When he thought of it, he couldn't really remember if he had a normal friendship with anyone of the opposite sex before, all thanks to his unhappy, troubled youth. 

“By the way, Simon,” she called, now lifting her eyes from his phone, only to be met with his thoughtful thousand yard stare directed at her.

“Simonnnn, can you hear me?” she called again, snapping a finger in his face. 

“Huh?” he blinked. “Oh, fuck. Sorry, I was just thinking of something.” 

“It's alright,” she smiled, wondering what his stare meant. She asked, “I was wondering why you call me darling and love so often.” 

His eyes rolled off elsewhere as he tried to think of an answer that wouldn't give away what he felt for her. “Well,” he began, voice quivering slightly, “It's just something I call the women in my life, yeah? Female friends and maybe family members. I think it’s also a British thing.” He shrugged. 

It was only the partial truth. 

“Hmm. I see,” she nodded, her eyes still glued to the phone. As she moved her hand to get a sip of the water, her finger accidentally swiped to the home screen of his phone, and she couldn't figure out where to go back to the notes app. The little mishap allowed her to take notice of his phone background, which was a closeup photo of a German Shepherd looking directly at the camera with its large, inquisitive eyes. She gave him his phone back, asking him to help her get back to the notes app. 

“I just happened to see your home screen. Is that dog yours?” she asked as he gave the phone back to her, now displaying the notes app. 

“My uncle's.”

“He's beautiful. What's his name?” she questioned, now getting back to typing out the book list. 

“It's a female. Her name’s Riley.”

“Riley! Like your surname?” 

“Yeah. I found her starved and thrown in a dumpster as a puppy, and I called my uncle to help me get her out. He adopted her and named her after me,” he said with a chuckle. 

She smiled as she finished typing out the list and handed the phone back to him. “That's really nice, and really strange too, because my ex has a female German Shepherd named Riley too.”

Simon raised a brow as he took the phone and glanced at the list before keeping the device aside. “Chalk that off as a coincidence. I guess many people have German Shepherds named Riley. The name is quite common… I think,” he said. But the mention of the ex intrigued him. “You mentioned your ex. So, you've dated before, then?” he asked directly but casually, hoping he wasn't being too nosy. 

She shrugged. “Yeah, one guy.” 

“What happened with your ex, if you don't mind me asking?”

He saw that she stiffened slightly and looked away for a moment, clearly looking uncomfortable. He was so close to backing off when she answered him, “Well…” she paused to suck in a sharp breath through her teeth, “He was an older guy, and I happened to keep bumping into him at my local grocery store.”

He raised a brow, first of all at the fact that she dated someone older, and second of all, she met him at the grocery store, the least romantic place to find a boyfriend. But he didn't say anything and listened anyway. 

“The first time we met, he mistook me for an employee and asked me where he could find the dog food,” she chuckled, “He was new to the area and didn't know where to find it in the grocery store, and I was also wearing something similar to the uniform of the store employees.”

“So you two hit it off then?” 

“Yeah, after that, we'd have small talk, and he was actually quite charming. He asked me out on a date, we liked each other, and then we dated for two months.”

“Hm, that's not very long, innit?” he murmured, “How old were both of you?” 

“I was nineteen and he was thirty-five.” 

“Holy fuck,” his eyes widened slightly, “Nineteen? That's really young.” He then paused to count, “And you guys had a sixteen year age gap.”

Her cheeks warmed with embarrassment. “Yeah, I know, it's crazy.” 

“You prefer older blokes then?” asked Simon, fiddling with his fingers as he leaned forward on the table, hoping she would refute it. 

“Well no, but I was…” she sighed, “I was trying to figure out what sort of man I liked.” 

“And your first choice was an older man,” he thought to himself, but didn't say it out loud. “Wasn't that potentially dangerous though? Sure, you weren't a minor, but you were still young.” 

She sighed again, but heavier this time. “Yeah, it kind of messed me up a little.” 

“It did? How?” 

She told him about how he could get a little demanding when it came to spending time with him, as she was a budding author at the time, and was busy with writing a good piece that was worth publishing. 

“Of course, even though I was busy, I tried my best to spend time with him. But he just wasn't satisfied. And since I lived at the dorm in uni, I had a curfew, but he would disregard it completely and beg me to stay and spend the night with him, when I wasn't comfortable with it yet. Thanks to that, just being around him ramped up my anxiety, and our relationship that was once enjoyable wasn't anymore.”

Simon felt tempted to ask if she had done anything intimate with her ex, but bit back, not wanting to come off as rude and intrusive. He listened with narrowed eyes and keen earnestness. “And so you broke up then?” he asked. 

“Yeah, and it surprisingly went well. Both of us mutually agreed that the relationship wouldn't work out, and we parted ways.” She paused for a long time and Simon didn't break her spell of silence, sensing a struggle in her to say the next words. She finally continued, “I thought that that was the end of it, but lately he's been calling me again, asking me if we could get back together.” 

Simon raised a brow again. “What? How daft is he? He has no shame groveling back to you.”

“Yeah… I spoke to him once to clearly tell him I wasn't interested anymore, but I don't think he understands.” 

As if on cue, her phone started ringing. When she checked who was calling, she recognized the unsaved number immediately, having seen it several times. Her eyebrows furrowed slightly, feeling the same old anxious feeling rise from her chest to constrict her throat. “It's him,” she said, her voice quivering. 

Simon held out his hand. “I'll speak to him.” 

“Are you sure?” she asked frantically. 

“I'm sure. Give it here before he cuts it,” he urged. 

She hastily placed the ringing phone in his hand and he immediately picked it up. 

“Hello, mate. ____’s boyfriend here. What do you want with my missus?” he asked calmly. 

There was a brief silence. 

“Simon?” asked the deep, rumbling, yet gentle voice on the other side. 

The colour drained from Simon's face as he recognized the voice he knew and loved. 

“Uncle John?” 

Plot twist?

End of Part 5.

Part 6

-

I'm making a taglist btw. Leave a comment if you want to be included!

[bangytell]

A Little Help

Practically on my knees, but I know I shouldn't think about it, you know what you're doin' to me. Ariana Grande –Break up with your girlfriend, Cause i'm bored

Summary: Jungkook offers to be a rebound after your ex, Jimin, just cheated on you, What could go wrong with that?

Genre: Friends to Lovers

Rated: m +18

Pairing: Jimin x reader, Jungkook x reader

Word Count:2k

Warnings: oral (f receveing), (m receveing), protected sex, and maybe just a bit angsty at the beginning

a/n: I went to a party, some things happened with a couple i just met and i got all crazy with this idea, i finished up at 5 am and i enjoyed pouring everything out. Also i believe that after looking at those Jungkook photos for that magazine got me thinking different. Anyway just enjoyy.

You have never done something like this, and coming from the you that got hurt, shouldn't  mean a good thing. But why the heck not? Jimin didn't even think once before being unfaithful, why would you take a second to rethink this, he offered, and you’re drunk enough to ride the motorcycle. With your arms around his toned torso, he takes you to his loft. 

Only this time for something different, something never crossed your mind before.

It was a warm day in August, Jimin finally had agreed to meet your parents, and everything between you two seemed to be just how it was supposed to be; he treated you like a princess, bought you flowers, nothing could be wrong, right? Except that it was, after the dinner with your parents, and getting the same lecture from your best friend Namjoon beforehand “how can you trust the man after dating for five whole months and not asking to meet your parents” now it comes to your mind, all those times that the said it, and he loved you, that was why he told you, but Jimin had you in his arms, so foolishly in love to ever realized that you were the girl he could keep lying to the most time. The next day you went to Jimin’s apartment, to surprise, when actually the surprise was more for you, he was fucking with a classmate of yours, on the same couch you did it several times. You didn’t cry, you didn’t scream or shouted anything, you closed the door and walked away. Jimin went behind you, saying that it was all a mistake, that he loved you and would change for you, as if that could mean anything by that point. 

“Jimin, get the fuck away from me, we are done, don’t call me, don’t look for me, we are over, go back to fucking that whore” he didn’t move anymore, in the five months you dated not that much of curse words came with your vocabulary, he was obviously shocked, and so were you. 

You called Namjoon, he answers and after you said your sad hello and he asks was wrong, you cry, every memory comes to your mind 

“Where are you?” “At your apartment?” you make a noise, something to agree on what he asked and he hangs up, after 20 minutes you hear your door, is him.

It’s always been like this, Namjoon always had your back. And you have his, 5 years of friendship will have to take as something.

He doesn’t ask, he hugs you, lays with you on the couch and strokes your hair while you cry for you don’t know how long. 

“He cheated on me” 

“It's better for you like this” you nod, cause he always told you that.

You made a poor choice of boyfriends before, and every breakup Namjoon had always said the same.

After a week of feeling like shit, you get a phone call, as you watch your romantic comedy movie, but you choose to answer.

“Namjoon, I told you like five times that I don’t want to go to that club” you answer, as an instinct, it is always Namjoon who calls you, right? you hear a soft chuckle on the line, and when you check, you don’t recognize the number

“I’m not Namjoon, is Jungkook actually” his voice sounds raspy 

“Jungkook?” you hear music in the background, and a few laughs, is he at a party?

“Yes, I already said that” he chuckles, again, and something within you lightened up

“Why would you be calling me? and what do you want? I told Jimin not to look for me” 

“Those were a lot of questions, how about you come over to this party, and I can tell you all about it” you don’t answer, what if Jimin is at the party? “Jimin is not here, if you are asking, but Namjoon is, he asked me to convince you” you chuckle this time 

“Why would he tell you?”

“He thinks I have a way with people, are you coming?”

Jimin’s best friend is inviting you to a party, where he could be, cause they are best friends, you dont wanna see him and get drunk, cause if you do that you don't know if he will stay ex that way.

“C’mon beautiful, just enjoy yourself a little” 

“I'll go, but don't tell me beautiful again” he chuckles

“You’ll have fun sweetheart, I promise, and you said not to call me beautiful, so i didn’t” was he always like this? maybe not because you were dating his friend, but you could take the chance

“Text me the location” and you hang up, you change your pajamas for a brown top and a pair of jeans, with sneakers, get a bit of eyeliner, not too much or you'll get carried away.

[Here’s the address, beautiful:) \location\] he texted you 

[I thought I told you not to call me that] he replied with an emoji the kiss one, you get the keys to your car, cause surely Namjoon doesn’t have his and you drive, it's actually close, after 10 minutes your car is already parked and you text Jungkook that you're outside, he comes to the door to greet you it was a fraternity party, so loud, louder than when he called you, maybe he was further away.

You walk in and Namjoon hugs you and whispers “you look amazing” . He smells so much of alcohol you respond that he looks great too.

You get a few drinks, talk to Namjoon and his friend, Hoseok, as always, he’s all touchy with you, he stopped when Jimin and you dated, but knows that all is over. What you don't notice is Jungkook's gaze directed at you, and Hobi’s hand on your thigh, you brush it off, probably wasn't even looking at you there's a lot of people at the party. 

You get up, to smoke a cigarette outside, you need the fresh air, Jungkook follows you.

“Hey” Jungkook was there, next to you at the balcony.

“Hey, you” he smirks

“You look so beautiful” you chuckle, letting go of the smog of the cigarette 

“And why do you decide to say this now?” he shrugs and you smoke a little more

“We have a class together, remember?” you nod, it was the same as Jimin. French. The one you don't actually have to take, but seems to be the easier, just to fill the school schedule 

“That’s where i met Jimin, and.. you”

“But i can’t compete with Jimin, that’s for sure” you chuckle, he had him in a pedestal or something 

“Jimin already wins at being the most cheater, are you trying to win that?” he denies with his head, your cigarette is done by now, but by the way Jungkook is looking at you, you don't know if you wanna go back inside 

“Jimin did you wrong, I told him that one day you'll find out”

“So you knew and didn't tell me? well talk about loyalty”

“It's not like that” you shrug, and light up another cigarette

“Then what is it like Jeon, hm?” you don't know where the confidence is coming, so you just go with it.

“I didn't want to hurt you Y\N?” you chuckle

“Me? Why would you care about me and not your friend?”

“Believe it or not, it was about you, it was always about you” you gaze him, hes serious, not moving with his eyes locked with yours, so full and big you could get lost 

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Now that you're done with him, let me get through you”

“You wanna fuck with me?” he chuckles

“Not just that Y/N, or if that is what you want, i'll have it”

“Explain it to me, everything” he leans closer, you're surprised he still hasn't looked at your boobs, his cologne smells amazing, so soft but not sweet, and not to much to smell from afar but enough to notice when you're close enough, like how you're right now.

“I always liked you Y/N since the first semester” but you have only met him the first semester, how?... “I took french cause Jimin told me that was were the good looking girls went, and i was a freshman, so we went together, and he always had that charm with women, I don't know how he does it, he went after every girl at the classroom, but i could only looked at you, how your copper hair was always shining, how after every lesson you just knew everything” he noticed all that? “Am I scaring you?”  he noticed your expression, but you're not scared, not at all. 

“No, you aren't” 

“Jimin got your attention before i tried, and i just couldn't tell him that i liked you, he was my friend, first foremost and i know it hasn't been long since you left him, but give me a chance, give me tonight, and if you think that you can't get him out of your mind, i'll leave it be”

“Jungkook, I-...” why not? Even he knew that Jimin didn't treat you right, all the time you dated he cheated, he just wanted one girl after the other. 

Why not try one night with someone that will appreciate it. Why not? Screw it.

You kissed him, slowly, his hand went to your neck, slowly pulling to deepen the kiss, your hands were on his arms, trying to grasp from something. 

When you pull away, just a little, still close to him you whisper under your breath “Take me out of here” he nods, you go inside, ask who hasn't drink that much, Hobi is your answer, you give him the car keys and tell him to take Namjoon home, he agrees, and you step away again, the music now is more quieter, leaving you with your thoughts while you wait Jungkook to bring his motorcycle from where he left it. And that bring us to the beginning where you're on your way to an apartment you only visited once or twice in the five months you dated him, not saying his name now while your hands can feel the toned body of Jungkook, he works out, regularly, more than him; you can tell, his back is wider, and more firm. You arrive after 30 minutes, once inside neither of you can't wait, after tasting those soft lips you can't seem to have enough.

The bed is upstairs, it is a nice building, his bedroom is surrounded by windows, you're way too high up for anyone to see, to hear you maybe it will be easier.

He helps you get naked, slowly taking his time with each cloth, kissing and licking making his way through your body.

He caress your breast while getting each nipple sucked but not in a way that hurts like Jim… he makes you look at him, while opens up your legs and gets in between them

“Aren't you taking your clothes off” he smirks and denies with his head

“Not yet baby doll” he caresses your thighs, slowly making his way up to your vagina “I wanna make sure that you cum more than one time” he doesn't give you time to answer, or to think.

at the edge of his bed he start to lick you, he knows where, how, and is making you squirm, he starts to fasten his pace 

“Jungkook…” you try to tell him that you dont wanna cum yet, that you need him inside, but before you can think of that, he already made you finish while you said his name. Like a mantra, like when you were little and at school they make you repeat everything. Jungkook's name does not leave your mouth. 

He slowly gets away from you, helps you lay down while he goes away a little to his night stand. He makes you sit down so you can see him get naked, he starts with his shirt, his tattoos that hugs his skin makes him look so good, he continues with his pants, and you get

to see his dick, by now is wet with pre cum and that makes you feel good about yourself, like you know that just by being you he gets like that. And it is like that. He starts to rip the condom when you stand to get him closer, he didnt expect when you start to lick the tip of his dick, getting full of your saliva and trying to get inside your mouth as far as you can, he whisper under his breath your name, and you feel like you have to compensate what he did to you, but when you least expected he had already got you laying down again. he gets the condom in and asks you, getting in missionary “Are you sure about this?” you smile and nod “Please say it” you grab him, his dick more specifically and answer

“Please, get inside of me” he smirks, and doesn't make you wait any longer, starts with a slow pace, looking at you while you moan and try to keep eye contact. His thrust get harder, same pace just harder, and you feel him get deeper and you moan louder

“Fuck! yes, like that!” he keeps the pace 

“You like that huh gorgeous?” he smirks and you feel yourself more and more like you're becoming his, all fully to him

Now his thrust is faster, and with his thumb he starts to finger your clitoris, while he's inside of you, moaning your name and saying that you're all his in that raspy voice.

Once again you let yourself go while he's inside of you 

“Yes baby, you feel amazing” he moans, and with a few more strokes he finishes inside of you, even with the condom that feels amazing.

He pulls away, and you try to stand to get to the bathroom. He gets to you after throwing the condom away

“I'll help you” he takes you in his arms and leaves you inside the bathroom “There's towels inside the closet and if you want i'll help you open the water so you'll get a hot shower” you thank him and he closes the door behind him. You'll never get this pampered after sex, it's weird to you. You don't need the shower so you get yourself dry after all the sweat. Maybe you'll have to go home after this, but it's so late, and you don't have your car and…

“Y/N? Are you good? I can borrow some clothes if you wanna sleep in” 

You open the door, he's wearing a pair of boxers and now you miss your underwear.

“You don't have to bother, i'll just get an uber” he denies with his head

“I won't let you leave my house in an uber, I can get my car if you really wanna leave but i really would like it if you stay” by the end you already had your underwear on, next to his bed.

“You want me to stay? with you?” he nods

“Yes, with me, please sleep here, i can take my couch if you want” he pleaded and you nodded 

“Okay, but borrow me some pajamas” he chuckled and helped you with some clothes.

You fell asleep under his arm, breathing so slowly and deep every detail in his face. His moles and dimples, the scar in his right cheek, you’ll be sure to ask for that later, after him saying good night and turning off the lights you drifted off.

The smell of coffee brings you back to life, the soreness in your body feels so much heavier and you can't seem to be able to get up. You hear Jungkook singing at a distance, he has a good pitch, your phone starts to sound, it's Namjoon, so you pick up.

“Where in the hell are you?’ he shouts 

“I'm at Jungkook's house” you whisper, carefully not to call his attention for now 

“Excuse me, what?” you chuckle a little

“It's a long story, to make it short right now this is the best sex i've had in like forever”

“Well thank you baby” you shout a little and Jungkook burst into laughter

“Jungkook… good morning?” you start to laugh too “I’ll call you back Nam, love you”

“I’m sorry” you cover up your face, that was embarrassing, at top of the list for sure 

He takes your hands and you make eye contact. 

“Sorry you had to hear that” he chuckled

“No worries honey, it was a boost to my ego so no hard feeling” you chuckled “And good morning, i made breakfast and coffee” 

“What time is it?” he looks over his watch, he took a shower, his damp hair is falling his forehead and his skin was glowing with the sunrays through the windows

“It’s just 9 right now, i figured you have classes today so i let you sleep a little more” you smiled, he is always attentive?

“Thank you…” you smile and look down 

“Is something the matter?” you deny with your head 

“You’re too sweet” you gaze upon him, he smiles

“Is that the problem” you deny again

“No, it's just… new to me, just that”

“Well, i want to make it your routine, and still surprise you, if you let me” 

“Let’s take it with ease, i smell pancakes” he nods 

“Get up so i can drive you to your place and then to class, if that's okay with you”

“I think i'll have to accept, probably Hobi still has my car and i don't wanna be late”

“My pleasure gorgeous” you smile and feel really good

You know that everything around Jungkook feels better, somebody that actually treats you differently, maybe accepting tonight wasn't such a bad idea after all. 

masterlist

©️bangytell please do not copy or steal my work, any translation can’t be done this is the only way to read it.

[melodygatesauthor]

Jonathan Levy - Random Horny Thot #1 - The Girl in the Front Row

NSFW

He'd spent night after night jerking off to your videos online. He watched you, pretty legs spread wide with a vibrator plunged deep in your wet little pussy. He'd fantasized about feeling your walls contracting around his girth, squeezing his cock while you cum over and over again. He knew he could do better than that silly piece of plastic, he knew he could do better for you.

When the new semester starts, and he looks up to see his new class, he nearly drops the coffee mug in his hand. There you are, sitting with your eyes down staring at your notebook and writing your notes. Jonathan gulps, mouth slack open and breathing heavily. Is he having an asthma attack? No...no he's okay...

Professor Levy knows he has to have you, and when all the other students leave, he tells you to stay behind. When you look at him with those big, curious eyes he feels his arousal building instantly. You're so pretty, and his cock aches with a need to be buried deep inside of you. He takes off his glasses and puts them on his desk.

He says your stage name, the one only fans of your work would know about, and then watches the panic wash over your face. You start stammering, unable to get out a coherent thought, and he can see it in your expression so he stands, putting a caring hand on your shoulder.

"Hey, you don't have to worry honey, I'm not going to tell anyone," he trails his hand up the side of your neck and he brushes his thumb against your cheek.

"Professor I-"

"Sh," he puts a finger on your lips, "you've given me so much, let me return the favor hm?"

Within seconds he's got you bent over his desk, door locked, cock buried to the hilt in your warm little cunt. He shudders feeling it grabbing onto him like it doesn't want to let go. He rubs the globes of your ass with both hands, grabbing them and spreading your cheeks so he can watch.

"Oh god, look at you. Thought about this a lot but-oh-fuck-never thought I'd actually feel you sweetheart. So tight..."

You're like putty in his hands, whining and moaning over the desk, holding on so hard your knuckles ache. He grabs your waist, gripping roughly, leaving divots in your skin.

His slow rolling motions get more uneven as he gets closer to losing himself. It's wrong, fucking a student, especially one two decades younger than he is, but he can't help himself, and you feel so fucking good.

In fact, you feel so good that he's embarrassed at how quickly he's spilling his hot seed inside of you, filling you so full you're making a mess of his classroom floor. He's not going to let you go unsatisfied though, not a fucking chance.

He doesn't even care that he's going to have to wash his own cum out of his beard before his next lecture, he's on his knees behind you, lapping at your hungry clit with fervor. You're gasping, breathing heavily while he slurps and eats everything out of you.

He makes good on his promise, giving you one of the same mind-numbing orgasms that you'd given him time and time again with your films in the privacy of his home office. You were such a mess when he was finished that your makeup was running down your face and your stockings were ruined.

"Keep this up honey," he leans in, beard brushing against your ear, "and I'm sure you'll do just fine in my class."

Any of my blurbs can be used as inspo for a fic. Please tag me for credit. Thank you!

Random Blurbs Masterlist

[darthdaddi]

Saber Play

AnakinxFem!Reader

This idea has been in my head for a while now and I finally gathered the balls to write about it. Please read warnings, if you feel uncomfortable just keep scrolling. Again, I get straight to the point with this fic as well. No plot, just smut.

UNEDITED so I'm sorry if I made mistakes, please ignore them :,)

Warnings: 18+ (MINORS DNI!), dub-con?? , foul language, inappropriate use of a light saber, slight edging, Dom!Anakin, slight age gap (Anakin is 23 and reader is 19), Master Anakin & Padawan reader (no Ahsoka or Padme, sorry m'ladies!) , humiliation, degrading, pet names, squirting, almost public sex?, praises from Anakin, face fucking, riding, spitting, choking, messy fucking, unprotected sex and cream pie.

You've only been Anakin's Padawan for a year now after your original master was killed during the battle of Geonosis. The council deemed that he was ready to take on the task of finishing your training. You've made googly eyes at him since you two were both Padawans. He never paid mind to it though. After all you were 4 years younger, he thought it was an innocent crush. Which it was at the time, but now you're mind is mature. You are reaching the point of adulthood where you're innocent crush is more like intimate crush. Honestly you didn't get much action, yeah you messed around with other's your age but it wasn't the same. You wanted him. You wanted your master so badly and it was truly unbearable. It was completely forbidden to love or be attached to one, but being in love with you're master was on a whole new level.

It was stupidly hot this day and of course Anakin chose an outdoor training day. He loves to watch you complain and argue to try to get you're point across, he immediately shuts you down and banters on about how he is the master and you are just a padawan. He loves his new sense of power, even if he uses it on small things like this. Before you head out to the training platform you decided to wear a cropped tunic that you made yourself along with your normal pants and utility belt. You knew this would piss him off, that's what you always aimed to do. Being a brat is what you strive for, it really gets Anakin going. You loved the way his jaw clenched when he is pissed at you, the way his brows furrowed in anger.

Arriving at the training spot, you see Anakin staring off into the city only to look back at you in anger, "Little one, what in the maker are you wearing? Haven't I told you a thousand times not to tamper with your clothes?" He said obviously annoyed by your rebellion. You crossed your arms and spoke, "Well master, maybe if you hadn't picked the hottest day to train, I wouldn't have to wear such provocative clothes" you said rolling your eyes, knowing that's what his lecture was about. Anakin sighed and walked closer to you, "Y'know, you've been a real fucking brat lately. Not to mention those lustful thoughts of yours. Do you really think you deserve my sex?" He hissed. Taken aback, you could only open your mouth to speak. Yet know words came out. "Is this your attempt to seduce your master? Wearing such a shirt" he said tugging on the bottom of your barely-there under tunic. "Pathetic, your tits almost hang out of this thing. You look like a slut" he growled. One thing Anakin was good at was humiliating you. He made you feel so insignificant at times, it was actually kind of hot. You're core began to dampen as more degrading words flowed from his mouth. "Now look at you, all turned on and flustered over my cruel words. I can sense you Y/n, you can't even mentally shield yourself from me, so weak and horny for me" he chuckled, his curls began to stick to his forehead due to the heat. He inched closer, making you feel small under his gaze. "Ani, I'm sorry. I really did not intend to-" he cut you off, "You didn't intend to what? Cause me to have this aching boner? Gods I can't stand you right now" he said through his teeth. Anakin released his saber from his belt and glared into your eyes, "And that's master to you, slut" his words stung this time, did he only see you as his Padawan now? Anakin ignited his light saber in front of you.

"Strip" he said bluntly. You scurried to take off you're clothes, even though Anakin would never hurt you. He eyes you up and down, taking in all of your features. Anakin smirked as you look at him, so helpless and under his complete control. He turned his saber off and looked into your eyes, "Like I said before, I don't think you deserve my dick" with that, he ran the cold metal of the saber's hilt down your lower stomach and to your swollen cunt. He rubbed the smooth side of the hilt on your clit, staring into you as he did so. You felt so embarrassed that you closed your eyes, yet you couldn't stop the sweet groans from escaping your throat. Anakin laughed at you and pouted  mimicking your state, "Are you really going to get off to my light saber right now? You truly are pathetic" he scoffed. Anakin immediately stopped and reignited his saber, so close to your navel that you could feel the heat off of it. You were sweating, not only from nervousness, but also from the Coruscant heat. Anakin ran his weapon up and down, close to your skin. This started to excite you, the thrill of your master having so much control over you had your adrenaline pumping. "Be a good girl for me little one, and get on your knees" he said extinguishing his saber once more. You did what was asked of you and dropped to your knees. Anakin pulled down his pants just enough for his dick to show, it sprung out tall and hard as it hit his clothed abdomen. You looked at him with big doe eyes. "Don't act innocent Y/n, I know that you aren't a virgin. You sneak around other's quarters all the time" he said rolling his eyes. Looking at him in shock you said, "That may be true, but honestly I'm not very experienced" you embarrassingly admitted. He chuckled and patted your head, "You'll do just fine. Now open that pretty mouth of yours" Anakin cooed at he held the back of your head, guiding you to his glorious cock. You maintained eye contact with him and took the head of his length in your mouth, suckling on it softly. 'fucks' and groans poured out of his mouth as he pushed your head further down on him, helping you bob it. You placed your hands on his thighs for support as he started thrusting his hips into your face, his finely groomed hairs prickling at your nose. Anakin threw his head back at the sight of his very own padawan getting her face absolutely fucked, "Thats right pretty girl, earn that fucking cock" he grunted out, speeding up his pace. You wouldn't help but gag at his quick thrusts, it was almost too hard to breathe from his impressive girth. You squeezed your eyes shut as you felt him twitch in your mouth. Anakin quickly pulled out of your mouth, "Open up for your master darling~" he cooed at you. You did so, just for him to spit in your mouth and shove your face back into his hips, "Fuck, I'm going to make you mine, pretty little thing" he growled at you, quickening his speed. All you could do was mumble around his suffocating dick. Anakin started getting sloppy with his thrusts as his hot cum filled the back of your throat. You didn't dare spit out what he gave you, instead you swallowed it proudly.

A voice from the hall began echoing towards the two of you. "Let's move this to my quarters hm?" He said in an almost panicked voice. Without thinking Anakin pulled his pants up and took of his cloak off, putting it on you quickly. You picked up your discarded clothes and stuffed them into your arm underneath the sleeve of Anakin's massive cloak. He helped you slip your shoes on as you desperately wrapped the excess cloth around your body. The door swiped open to reveal a confused Obi-Wan, "How was the training- Y/n why do you have Anakin's cloak on?" He questioned with a raised eyebrow. "We were practicing dueling and I got a little carried away... My shirt ripped and I left my cloak in my quarters" you lied straight through your teeth, a bad lie at that. "Oh dear, that is embarrassing young one. Good thing your master is so generous to cover you up hm?" Obi-Wan said with smirk as he looked at Anakin, as he has an idea of what really happened. "Yes well we should get going master, wouldn't want her standing here like this any longer" Anakin said with a fake smile. "Very well, the two of you better rest up. You look exhausted" Obi-Wan said chuckling. Anakin mumbled under his breath as the two of you headed for Anakin's quarters, which wasn't far from yours, "Fuck, he definitely knows something" he said with shut eyes and a sigh. Anakin swiped his room door open, locking it behind him. Though his demeanor changed as he got a better look at you with his cloak on. He was smirking at you, "Y'know, you look so damn adorable with my robes on, so tiny compared to me" he said looking at how his clothing drags to the floor more than usual on you rather than him. "Really?" You said with a smile, giving him a turn. "Really, though I'd love to see you without it on" Anakin stated as he helped you undress completely again. This time he was being sweet, pulling you by the waist to meet his gaze. Anakin placed ticklish kisses on your neck while holding you by the hips. "Anakin undress with me" you flirtatiously said. "I thought I told you it was master, or daddy if you prefer. I think I love the idea of you calling me daddy" he said with a smirk. "Daddy it is" you replied back with confidence. Anakin smiled at you as he pulled away, "Maybe if you ask nicely I'll reveal myself to you, darling" he whispered in your ear this time. This sent chills down you, forming goosebumps at the scandalous words your master had uttered. "Will you please undress for me master?" You said in a tiny voice that was almost too quiet to hear, but Anakin gave in to your cuteness and began stripping down until he was fully naked along with you. The two of you took a moment to embrace the moment, touching each other's naked bodies like it your first times again.

Anakin picked you up by the under of your thighs and back up to his bed, sitting you on his lap as he initiated a heated make out session. He grabbed and played with your ass which was almost enough to make you orgasm, as the slightest touch from him was enough to take you over the edge. You began to grind your hips into his thighs, feeling his hard cock slip in between your folds in the most delicious way. Anakin felt the same way you did as he used your ass as leverage to further grind your hips, the two of you rocked back and forth patheticly, looking into each others eyes and enjoying the moment. Grunts and groans poured lewdly out of your mouths as you sped up your action. Although before you reached your high, Anakin tossed you onto the bed and wasted no time touching your prescious parts, rolling and rubbing your clit between his skilled fingers. "So fucking wet for me little one, so damn good for me" Anakin whined as he proceded to work down your slick, spitting on your pussy. Your masters middle finger entered your hole that was aching for him so badly. You squirmed at his cold touch. His strong gloved hand held your hip to keep you in place as he introduced another finger, immediately pushing on your plush spot. You were thrown into shock by the feeling. Others had fingered you before, but not like Anakin. He was so skilled with his fingers that it made you wonder how many girls he's slept with. "Hey! Why are you worrying about my sex life? It's just me and you in this moment baby, nobody else" he said almost offended by your wondering thoughts. You blushed at his words that made you feel so special. Anakin only cared for you in this moment, something you have always longed for. He snapped you out of your thoughts as he sped up his pumps, applying more pressure to your g-spot. You bit your lip at the familiar feelings, you were about to squirt. You have only done it one other time while fucking yourself stupid to the thought if Anakin, but this time it was him who was about to make you spew. "Thats right sweetheart, let it all out for me" he said keeping his tempo. With that you threw your head back in bliss and let out a broken moan as the build up of your fluids were finally released. Anakin loved this. He loved seeing you so messy for him. He rubbed your clit quickly, sending you into your first euphoric high. Your face twisted in an ugly orgasmic way that he found so hot. "Atta girl!" Anakin chanted at you finished your orgasm, "That is such a good girl" he cooed. Anakin plopped down on the bed, pulling you on top of him. "Now Y/n, be a big girl for me and ride my cock" he smirked at you. "But daddy-" you attempted to speak but your master cut you off. "Princess you want me so bad and you know it. Go on and take what you want so badly" he said stroking your hair sweetly.

You crawled up to his length and aligned it with your dripping parts, sinking onto his thick girth. Anakin groaned as your walls clenched around him, taking in every inch. You slowly rocked your hips back and forth on him, you propped your body against his thighs to give him a better look at your pussy engulfing his dick. Anakin groaned and circled your swollen and sensitive clit with his thumb, encouraging you to grind with his finger's pace. You sped up to match him as the both of you watched as his cock slid in and out if you. "Fuck you look so good around me. Such a slut for this dick" Anakin groaned, pulling you down towards his face to kiss you. You smiled into the kiss, loving the dirty name he deemed as yours. Breaking off this kiss, you attached your lips to his neck, licking the salty residue from the sweat earlier. Anakin had no shame in letting out a few moans as he held your hips up to thrust into your cunt harshly. He wanted to ruin you, make you cum repeatedly for him. Your kisses and licks didn't last long as your mouth hung open, letting out whiney moans in his ear. Your legs began to feel like jelly as he penetrated your poor hole. "Don't stop daddy, oh gods please don't stop" you bellowed out, loud enough for the whole of  Coruscant to hear. The sounds of skin slapping and moans melodically traveled through the room. You bit down on his neck in an attempt to muffle out your moans. Anakin winced at the sharp pain and flipped you over, taking complete control of you. He summoned his light saber from his belt and ignited it like he did earlier, holding so close to your throat you could feel the heat from the weapon. This excited you immensely, feelings so helpless once again. Anakin continued to fuck you hard and fast with the light saber still to your throat, "Don't bite me whore, you aren't mine yet" Anakin hissed at you through his teeth, holding onto your hip with his free hand to control your body. He sped up his movement go an ungodly pace, completely ruining your cunt. You squirmed and whined at the way he fucked you, that's really all you could do. You where speeches. "Im going to cum in that messy hole of yours and make you mine, just as I promised" he growled at you, extinguishing his light saber and tossing it to the side. Anakin then pinned your small hands above your head and used his free hand to choke you. You saw stars, no, fireworks. You were reaching a complete euphoric orgasm like you never felt before, your walls started contracting around Anakin cock which threw him over the edge too. He moved the hand on your throat to your wrists and he buried his face into your neck, releasing his hot load into your cunt with no mercy, "You're mine now little one, all mine" he rasped into your ear.

Here it is! I hope you enjoy this content as it's a little different than I usually write.

[ourtearsofrain]

Just Another Scary Movie (D.R.W/S.F.K)

Summary: When Sam does everything he can to finally just get one night to himself, he gets exactly what he wanted, spending the night watching shitty rom coms all comfy on his couch. But when a strange caller interrupts his night of relaxation, all his plans come crashing down on his head.

Pairings: Danny Wagner x Sam Kiszka (!Scream AU)

Series Genre: angst, horror

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: man threatening/breaking and entering/physically restraining someone (Just imagine the actual Scream movies, less blood and stuff but same phycological mind fuck)

--------------------------------------------------------

Sam truly did love living with his brothers, but quickly learned that the two rarely spent time apart from each other, only dragging Sam into their “adventures” as soon as he had settled into their house and his class schedules. Which was fine, after only seeing them on holidays for six years, he was grateful to spend so much time with them again, just like they did before the twins left for college. But Sam needed time to himself every once and a while, a concept that his brothers seemed to not understand. So, he took every chance he could to have the house to himself for the night, often making excuses that he had to be up early for a required attendance lecture the next day or that he was too exhausted to join them.

And that’s exactly what he had done tonight; when the twins invited him to go club hopping with them to celebrate Jake finishing his thesis, Sam had even feigned a cold to stay at home when they didn’t believe his other excuses, wanting nothing more than to watch movies all night long curled up on the couch with a freshly packed bong. Sam didn’t feel like explaining just how stressful and exhausting transferring universities in his Junior year and moving to another state had been for him, he was trying to focus on how great it was to be with his brothers again and didn’t need them feeling sorry for him. So, he had done everything to make sure it would be the perfect cozy night at home, knowing he needed just one calm night to himself. Sam had pre-popped popcorn for when he got the munchies, wrapped himself in his favorite throw blanket, and decided to wear the smallest shorts he owned, knowing that he would be asleep by the time the twins got home so they wouldn’t be able to give him shit over it.

Hitting ‘play’ on whatever new, probably shitty, Netflix original rom com he had decided on, Sam grabs his lighter, already knowing from the trailer that he needed to be incredibly high to sit through it. Just as the intro begins to play, Sam’s phone buzzes wildly on the couch next to him, halting his movements as he reaches for the bong. That’s weird, someone’s calling me. Jake and Josh never call when they’re out, unless it’s an emergency. Trying to keep himself calm, Sam picks up his phone, his heart rate steadying once more when he sees an unrecognized caller ID. Usually, he never answered those calls, choosing to send them to voicemail instead, but his relief that the twins were fine clouds his mind as he answers it, pausing his movie and putting his phone on speaker. “Hello?”

“Hello.” A deep voice rasps through the phone, and Sam can’t help but wonder if that was actually what his voice sounded like, or if he was using some voice filter to remain anonymous.

“Yes?”

“Who is this?” Great, a wrong number dial. Just what I needed interrupting my movie night.

“Who are you trying to reach?” Sam tries not to let his annoyance into his tone, knowing that it probably wasn’t the caller’s fault that they accidentally called him so late into the night.

“I don’t know.”

I’m getting tired of this. “Well, you have the wrong number.”

“Do I?”

“Yeah, have a great night.” Sam hangs up without another word, tossing his phone back onto the couch as he reaches for his bong once again. His hand doesn’t even find the cool glass before his phone begins buzzing, annoyance and frustration taking root in him when he sees the same number flash across his screen. “Hello??”

“I’m sorry, I guess I dialed the wrong number.”

“So, why’d you call me again?”

“I just wanted to apologize.”

“And you have now, so bye.” Sam’s finger hovers over the ‘end call’ button before the mystery caller’s voice filters through the speaker, the hint of desperation tinging his tone.

“Wait, wait! Don’t hang up please.”

“Why?”

“I wanna talk to you for a little.”

Disgusting creep. “Pornhub is free if you’re looking to get off tonight, or go find some AI text chat to fulfill whatever you need.” Sam hangs up, trying to keep the weird caller off his mind as he didn’t want it to ruin his night. You need this, Sammy. You just need one fucking relaxing night at home to reset, don’t let him ruin that for you.

He gets about five more minutes into the movie before his phone rings again, thankful that their family had an unlimited plan so that whoever was constantly calling him wouldn’t drain any of his minutes. With his first bong rip flowing through his body, he can’t seem to find it in himself to be annoyed as calm fills him, curious to see exactly what the fuck this person wanted from him. If all else failed, he could always block them. “Hello? Seriously, what do you want?”

“Why don’t you want to talk to me?” He sounds… genuinely sad?

“Because I don’t know who you are.”

“You tell me your name and I’ll tell you mine.” Sam almost laughs as he picks up a few pieces of popcorn, not realizing that he had put his phone on speaker again and was holding it close enough to himself that the caller would be able to hear him eat. “What’s that noise?”

“Popcorn.” Sam’s answer comes immediately, his mind too muddled to care about the unimportant question.

“I only eat popcorn when I watch a movie.” Amusement tinges the caller’s voice as he pauses, the silence heavy through the speaker as Sam waits to see if he would continue. “Are you watching a movie? Is that what I hear?”

“Yep. Some cheesy rom com. Do you like rom coms?” If he was being honest, Sam couldn’t explain what prompted him to ask the question, too inebriated to care and willing to just talk to whoever was on the other end of the line.

“Not really. I prefer horror movies. Do you like horror movies?”

“Eh, some of the classics. IT, Friday the 13th, The Shining, Halloween, stuff like that. I’m not a fan of most of the newer stuff since CGI has gotten better, it’s too gory for me.” Sam considers his words for a moment, thinking back on all the new horror movies Jake had forced him and Josh to watch over the years. “Actually, the newer IT movies were pretty good too.”

“Is that your favorite horror movie?”

Shrugging, Sam realizes that the other man couldn’t see him over the phone, slightly amused at himself that he had forgotten. “I guess. Do you have a favorite horror movie?”

“Hmmmm… maybe Sleepaway Camp. You ever seen that?”

“Not that I can think of.”

“The ending is reaaally scary.

“Oh, is it?”

“Mhm.” Not knowing how to feel about the hungry undertones of the caller’s voice, he moves past it, unable to care enough about it to end the call. “So, you got a boyfriend?”

Sam’s cheeks tinge bright pink at the unexpected question, his sudden nerves coming off as what he worried was flirtatious banter. “Why? You wanna ask me out or something?”

“Maybe” The single word sends butterflies to Sam’s stomach, the smile in the other man’s voice audible even through his speaker. This is a really weird pick-up attempt, but it’s the first romantic possibility I’ve gotten here so far… “Do you have a boyfriend?”

“No.”

“Hmm. Y’know, you never told me your name.” Why does he sound so hungry? Shit, I’m hungry, I’m probably just projecting. At the realization that the munchies had hit him, Sam moves the popcorn bowl closer to himself, snacking off it as he considers what to say.

“Why do you wanna know my name?”

“‘Cause I wanna know who I’m looking at.”

Sam feels as if he had been thrown into a freezing lake as ice cold fear seeps into his bones at the words. When he doesn’t see anyone after glancing around himself, his eyes go out the large window beside the TV, the night too dark to see more than five feet outside of it. “What did you just say?”

“I said, I wanna know who I’m talking to.” The caller’s smooth, even voice sends another wave of terror over Sam, the other man’s tone unsettlingly calm and collected.

“That’s- that’s not what you said.”

“And what do you think I said?” The speaker goes silent, and Sam’s anxiety finally gets the best of him as he darts up to close the blinds to the window, trying to squint into the darkness to see further. “Hello?”

“I need to- I gotta go-”

“Wait! I didn’t get to ask you out.” Although his tone remains mostly the same, Sam can hear the eagerness and despiration in his voice, and while the anonymity of the other man used to spark intrigue inside of Sam, now it only brought dread.

“No thank you.”

“Don’t hang up on me!” Sam nearly misses his words over the sound of him slamming the blinds closed, his hands shaking as he presses that red button in the bottom center of his screen.

Fuck, did the twins lock the front door? Nearly tripping over his blanket, he absentmindedly chucks it back onto the couch as he races to the front door, his stomach dropping to see it unlocked. He can’t get to the door fast enough, forcing his hands to steady before slamming the deadbolt into place. The sudden buzzing in his hand nearly makes him jump out of his skin, scared tears beginning to brew on his lash line at the number.

“Y-yes?”

“I told you not to hang up on me.” The anger in his tone is enough to nearly send Sam over the edge, his paranoia overtaking him as his eyes stay locked on the door.

“What do you want?”

“To talk.”

“Well then just- just call someone else, okay?” The second Sam hangs up, he navigates to the “contact” for the number, his finger mere centimeters from the “block” button before his screen lights up. It was the same number, the same person. Again. His fear transforms into anger momentarily, his frustration at his interrupted movie night filling him. Who did this person think they were calling him like that? From taking him away from his night of relaxation? “Listen, asshole!”

“No! You listen, you little bitch! You hang up on me again and I’ll strangle you with your own fucking intestines!” Sam is left frozen in his spot at the rage dripping from the caller’s words, his stomach turning from the open and graphic threat as he tries to find something, anything to respond with.

“Is this- is this some kind of a joke?”

“More of a game, really.” There’s that slick, cunning tone again. This guy is fucking psychotic. “Can you handle that… Sammy?”

How the fuck does he know my name? Sam tries to keep himself calm, his mind moving in slow motion through every possibility. “I’m gonna- I’ll call the cops.”

“Even if you hung up right now to do that, they’d never get here in time.” The caller’s voice carries an almost musical, sing-songy lilt to it, only furthering Sam’s utter terror. Is this is all- just some fucking game to him?

“What- what do you want?”

“To see if you’re still this pretty without your skin.” Nausea crashes over Sam at the words, the other man’s sincere tone sending him racing to the kitchen and grabbing the nearest trashcan he can find before emptying his stomach into the bin. Straightening, Sam finds his phone face-down on the floor, almost staring at him, beckoning him closer with each second. Just when he bends to pick it up, three booming knocks ring out against the window over the sink, the frames rattling as if the glass was on the verge of shattering.

“Who’s there?! Who’s there?!” Sam nearly sobs the words out, huddling closer to the counter from the floor, his knees pulled to his chest. “I’m calling the fucking cops!”

“You should never say, ‘Who’s there?’.” The caller cuts him off just as Sam moves to hang up, that deep, smooth voice pausing his motions. “You’d know that if you watched horror movies. It’s a death wish, y’know. There’re three rules to surviving in a horror movie. Rule number one is don’t fuck. Think you’ve got that one covered, Sammy boy. Rule two, don’t drink or do drugs. Not off to a great start here, are we?” Disappointment drips from his tone, tsking at Sam until he feels like he could physically picture the caller shaking his head. “And rule number three is never, ever fucking say ‘I’ll be right back’ or ‘Who’s there?’. That makes two out of three, I’m afraid your chances aren’t lookin’ too good here, Sammy.”

Just as the words leave the caller’s mouth, Sam glances up at the window, catching a flash of white and black just on the other side of the glass. Throwing himself into the corner, Sam takes up as little space as possible, hoping that if whatever had passed by the window looked back into it, he wouldn’t be able to see Sam. “No! Please, please, I don’t want to die. I- why won’t you just leave me alone?”

“I want to play a game.”

Sam’s tears roll down his cheeks at the monotony of his words. It is all just a game to him. He’s- he’s playing with me like I’m some toy. “No.”

“Then you die.”

“No, no, please!”

“Which is it then, Sammy?”

“What kind- what kind of game?”

“Go back to the living room and find out.”

Did this sick fuck get in?! Am I- is he gonna kill me the second I get in the room? Is he just waiting to attack? Sam stands on shaky legs, forcing his body to move through the kitchen in the direction of the living room. The moonlight filtering through the window catches the light off the cold steel of a knife in a woodblock, and Sam grabs it before continuing his path. Tiptoeing through the silent house, Sam peeks around the corner only to find the living room empty, his shitty romcom still playing on the TV.

“Good, now here’s how we play: I ask a question, if you get it right, I leave you alone.”

“Please, please don’t do this.”

“Come onnnn, it’ll be fun.”

This could- this could be my only chance to get out. What the fuck is this, why is this happening to me? I don’t- I don’t know what to do. “Fine.” Sam’s words are no louder than a whisper, heavy with defeat as he peeks through the blinds, his eyes scanning the trees outside of the window desperately.

“It’s an easy category: classic horror movie trivia. I’ll even give you a warm-up question. What’s the name of the summer camp where ‘Friday the 13th’ takes place?”

“I- I don’t remember. I don’t remember.”

“Come onnnn, you said it was one of the classics. You like the classics, remember?”

“I-” Sam cuts himself off, his mind scrambling in his terror to remember anything he could about the movie. “Camp- Camp Crystal?”

“Oh, you’re so close Sammy.” The caller purrs the words out, only adding to the distractions swirling around his head.

“Camp Crystal- Camp Crystal Lake! It’s Camp Crystal Lake!”

“Yes! Good job, Sammy. Now, for your real question. That was just a warm-up, remember?”

“Please- please-” Sam tries to blink the tears from his eyes, knowing that he would never be able to see anything happening around him if he let them pool to blur his vision.

“Same category. Who first says ‘Beep, beep Richie’ in the 2017 IT?”

“One of the Losers- one of- uhhh, probably Eddie! It’s one of the Losers, you sick fuck!” Nearly screaming the words out, relief floods Sam as he realizes what his correct answer meant for him.

“I’m sorry, Sammy! That’s the wrong answer!”

“No! No, it’s not! It was one of them, I’ve seen that movie so many fucking times, I know it’s one of them!”

“Then you should know that in the 2017 remake, Pennywise is the first to say ‘Beep, beep Richie’! None of the other Losers say it in the first movie! That’s only in the original!”

“You- you tricked me-”

“I didn’t though, Sammy. Lucky for you, I’m willing to give you a bonus round, just to see if you can redeem yourself.” Sam holds his breath, the caller’s seconds of silence stretching into what felt like hours. “Where am I?”

“What?”

“Where am I? Am I outside, or am I in the house? Where. Am. I?”

Feeling as if his heart had stopped, Sam can do nothing but hang up the phone, clutching the knife in his hand as he makes a beeline for his bedroom. Ok, Josh- Josh- I need to call him. I need to get to my room, lock the door, and then call him. I need to- to call the cops. Dread fills him with each step towards the stairs as he’s sent straight to voicemail, waiting for the tone to begin his recording. “Josh there’s- there’s someone here with me, threatening me, they want to- they want to hurt me. I’m- I’m locking myself in my room and calling the cops but just- I don’t know if they’re in the house but-” Panic flashes across his mind as realization hits him. I didn’t check the back door. We never- we never lock the back door.

The knife and phone drop from his hand as someone body slams him, sending them both to the floor while Sam can do nothing but yelp in his shock. The other person straddles Sam before he can recover, pinning his wrists down on the floor with his hands, and Sam can think nothing, feel nothing, as he stares up at the masked figure above him. His black, hooded cloak hid any distinct features from Sam, but he swore he could see a singular, dark brown curl hanging down from under the hood, just to the side of his mask that resembled a disfigured, screaming ghost.

Sam sends his knee straight into the other man’s crotch, shoving him off himself as he claws at the mask, eventually ripping it from his face. Before he has a chance to look at him properly, Sam gives the man one final shove downwards before snatching his phone off the ground and darting up the stairs. He doesn’t stop until he slams and locks his door behind himself, looking around his room frantically for anything he could use as a weapon before realizing that he was still leaving Josh a voicemail. “Listen, please, please just pick up. Please, Josh, I need help-”

Something slams into Sam’s door, and hard. The force shakes the doorframe, the lock creaking under the impact, startling Sam and causing him to drop his phone in his terror. Racing to the window, his shaking hands fumble with the lock, finally ripping it wide open before he shoves the screen from the frame and it clatters to the ground as he tries to climb out. A loud crack rattles the room, and Sam glances back to see the man, the caller, standing in the door, the kitchen knife in hand as he takes heavy breaths.

The man makes it across the room and throws Sam to the floor before he can even try to hoist himself up, his terror multiplying as he pins him to the ground once again. Sam can do nothing but stare up at him when the other man straddles him, making sure to keep his legs pinned to the ground too, as he keeps his gorgeous hazel eyes glued to Sam.  I was right. Curly hair. He almost laughs from fear at the thought, knowing that he had much more important things to focus on at the moment, that he shouldn’t spend his remaining time thinking about the caller’s gorgeous shoulder length mess of curls, or how good it looked with the top half held back with a hair tie. And he really shouldn’t have been staring at each individual freckle dotting the arch of his nose, peppered across his sun-kissed skin like stars.

“So,” The caller starts, moving Sam’s wrists to one hand as the other comes down to grab the knife, before bringing the blade up to Sam’s throat, the cool metal stinging his skin under even the smallest amount of pressure. Although Sam realizes that the man must have filtered his voice over the phone, finding it now higher in pitch yet still deeper than his own, it was still as smooth and delicious as honey. “You still don’t like horror movies?”

--------------------------------------------------------

A/N:

This is possibly another contribution to @hearts-hunger 's Halloween event (2 or 11 ish if you squint?) (ik it's late, I just needed to write this)

Yes ik that Danny pic is from last yrs Jedi costume but HE’S WEARING A FUCKIN CLOAK/ROBE I HAD TO

I actually fucking hate Sleepaway Camp, the end isn't scary, it's just completely fucked up. Spoilers ahead if you don't feel like watching: the only reason the killer girl starts murdering people is because she's actually a boy who has been forced to dress and act like a girl for the last like 10 years of their life. No. Other. Reason.

Taglist:

@jake-whatthefisgoingon-kiszka @milojames16 @gretnavannfleet @aioba1503-sdm @sanguinebats @cheersdannyx2 @ofthecaravel @holdingup-fallingsky

[satelliteaccident]

2024 [profoundly abridged]

or, a short-ish answer to "but six, where tf have you been??"

january

get invited to chat with Boss about Company sponsoring me for temporary (it is already doing this) or permanent (it is looking into this) residency. discover that what we are actually chatting about is that Company will, once current visa expires, do neither.

february/march

get invited to more chats, which boil down to "the problem is sponsorhip, not you/your work; if you find a way to stay with Company without sponsorship, which is Too Damn Hard, let us know."

go to albert park grand prix. spend days watching cars go nyoom while i hang out under the same tree, and with the same magpie gang, where i normally lunch-break and have ever since coming back to the office post-lockdowns. fail to bear the cognitive dissonance of so completely belonging to this place that bureaucrats do not frequent (which i can say with confidence because i do) yet "protect" with systems designed to drive people like me away*.

june

turn 40. sit with high likelihood of being unemployed and legally required to leave my home within six months. struggle to imagine turning 41.

july

find out my mom is dying. only find out my mom is dying because her long-term caregiver quietly, compassionately forgets her HIPAA regulations in the car and reaches out on [social media platform] to anyone with [very rare last name].

cousin messages my brother like "soooo Caregiver says your mom is dying? Caregiver wanted to reach out to you and six on your mom's behalf but [soap-opera villain aunt, who is also Caregiver's employer] won't let her??"

cousin and brother visit mom. mom is, indeed, dying. soap-opera villain aunt is mad Caregiver reached out to us behind her back, "but her heart was in the right place." wonder if cognitive dissonance is actually what's in that weird-ass bdsm pain-box in dune.

august

mom dies. turns out a lot of death admin things can only be done on US soil. plan trip back to greatlakesian homeland.

september

go back. do death admin for mom stuff and life admin for trans stuff. hang out with my brother. get lost in a corn maze. find a pumpkin bigger than his head. go back home. finish work.

november

per legal requirement, leave home.

december

survive. rent a "budget-conscious" room near a soul-shaking beach. wonder how i lived in australia for eight years without ever upsetting** a magpie yet, in new zealand, get swooped for the first, second, third, fourth, and fifth times. i had not even been here a month.

in conclusion

thank god for the many excellent people and many solace-balm moments that helped me survive this far into this fucking year.

===

*if this sounds melodramatic, please sit in on a lecture or two with dr google before you @ me.

**to the contrary, the whole Turn 8 Playground Gang knew me, and i knew them, by sight and song; they'd literally come nyooming over to chat and hang out. i knew which swamp hens they were cool with and which ones they were lowkey afraid of. i knew which magpies (those golf course bastards *spits*) were the hatfields to their mccoys and which ones they just couldn't be fucked to carol at. i wasn't as close with the citizens park crew because they had wayyyy more people to be going on with, but we never had issues. so while i don't delude myself that i'm a fucken magpie whisperer or whatever, neither does the evidence support "well mate, you were bloody ignorant is what you were -- got swooped? nah yeah, serves you right."

[fierysplash213]

Hello! Sorry I have not been posting in the last month. I had no inspiration. However, I started to watch My Hero Academia (MHA). Started to simp for a few characters, and decided to write a Bakugou x reader.

Prompt: You are sitting alone during lunch until your boyfriend ends your misery.

Warning: Swearing. It’s Bakugo. What do you expect?

Author’s note: I had so much fun writing this! This is quite different than what I normally write.

Enjoy!

Sitting alone? I can fix that.

———————————————————————

As the lunch bell rang, all of he students in U.A. came to the cafeteria. As usual, some students were buying food, and some were already digging in to the food they prepared the previous day.

After you got your food, you were looking for a seat. You skipped breakfast, big mistake. The smell of lunch made your stomach rumble even more. You could not wait to finally sit down and devour your noodles. You could even say that you were drooling at that point.

Your boyfriend, Bakugo had to stay back in class to get lecture from Aizawa. Typical. You would usually find an empty seat and sit with him, but today, you had to eat without him.

You go up to classmates and ask if you could sit there, but they either pretend you’re not there, or they were too busy talking to hear you. Scratch that, they all probably ignored you.

Feeling defeated, you find an empty seat and sit down. You sighed. As much as you wanted to feel sad and get mad at your entire class, you had an entire bowl of noodles to finish. Your stomach could not take it anymore, so you started slurping down your noodles.

Even though you were slurping down noodles, you could not help but think that everyone has been avoiding you recently. Honestly, they were never your friends. You just sat there, alone, with nobody to talk to. However, that that moment of despair might have ended at that moment.

“Hey idiot, anyone sitting here?” A rash voice called out.

You looked up and saw a familiar pair of vermilion eyes.

“Nope, there is no one.” You replied.

The blonde pulled out a chair as he sat down, putting his tray on the table and started to eat.

“I thought the lecture would last longer.”

“Well, you were wrong. And why were you sitting alone? I thought you would sit with classmates.”

“They ignored me.” You said in a sad tone.

“Fuck those idiots.” He said, looking slightly pissed.

You smiled. You were lucky to have a boyfriend like him.

“I love you.” You said in a cheerful voice.

“Shut up.” He blushes a little after saying those words.

Your smile widens. You knew it was his way of saying “I love you” back.

———————————————————————

So? What do you think? I can do this prompt with multiple characters. (As long as they are in school of course.) I am actually surprised I managed to write this long. As I said before that this is quite different from what I usually write.

Thank you for reading! Have a fantastic day!

[eyeofnewtblog]

Things that happen at home:

Me, to my dad: So, how is being department head going?

Dad, very clearly Frazzled TM: Who’s that kid your younger cousin keeps showing up with? The step kid obsessed with dinosaurs?

Mom, calmly: Ty, he’s eight.

Dad: Yeah, Ty. When I was his age, I wanted to be a firefighter. And dreams really do come true, because now, all I do, every SINGLE fUcKiNg DAY, is put out fires.

Me:…do you still get to teach? Do you miss teaching in general?

Dad: I miss the ever living fuck out of teaching. I spent all of Covid recording lectures so that now, the three classes I’m actually a professor on, two of them are completely online and I’ve got my Ph. D. students doing the grading, and the third is two masters students, one to put slides and content together that I spend ten minutes reviewing, and another to do grading. I get to dictate the class content without actually getting to think about how I’m going to make the material stick with my students, I don’t get to bond with them at all. And my Asian students STILL keep bringing me tea! I don’t even know them anymore! I’ve always considered myself a man of the west, bringing me tea does literally nothing, at least the statues they used to bring I could put up on the mantle and I could SEE how many lives I’ve touched, with the tea I actually have to think about which female relative I last pawned a giant tin off on! It’s tea! All of the women I know like tea, it’s just that none of you like it so much you drink TWO PINTS WORTH OF LOOSE LEAF BULLSHIT. (He specifically means the dry loose leaves that come in tins that are about two pint glasses worth…so actually several gallons worth of tea…)

Me:…do you want a hug?

Mom: my older sister just got an ice tea machine and has been…experimenting. We could just. Give her all the tea.

The specific aunt in question, who is actually present for this rant: I’ll take all the tea. I mean, I’m particularly enjoying the spilled tea right now, but yes, I would like more tea to experiment with.

Dad: You can fucking TAKE it. I’d rather you have it than look at the space its taking up every day because I don’t have the heart to throw it out. I really miss the days when all my students would put a can of Mountain Dew on my desk as they finished their finals. I miss being able to relate to my students with tv shows that I know they watched because I was watching those shows with my daughters. I’m in a position now, where I don’t have the luxury of connecting and while I like being challenged in a new way, I miss the individual connections.

A/N this a summary of the actual conversation (the quotes from the females in this story are spot on, but realistically it took two solid hours of getting a read and then asking actual direct questions to get my dad’s dialogue…it’s easier for me to just let him monologue on page, even if that’s something he would absolutely never do in real life…)

[i-donot-forget]

Inconceivable

I wrote this as the "first approach" between Eric and my Candy, Amy. The idea is to write some more moments that I have in mind, but it could still remain just as an One-Shot. It's a very short EricxCandy, Nath’s route, lots of angst, etc, etc.

Yes Nath, I know, do you think I don't know that the fucking cafe is about to go bankrupt? I don't need you to lecture me

I'm not lecturing you, I just don't think it makes any sense for you to keep that girl who is no contribution at all

I just don't feel it's too much to give her a second chance

It's unnecessary

You know what I think you're right, I shouldn't give second chances

I nailed my eyes on his defiantly, he knew exactly the double intention in my words and couldn't do more than give me a sarcastic half smile.

You seem a bit regretful with some of your decisions, maybe you should take my advice

Enough... I'm not in the mood for this shit, not even to pretend I am, I shake my head and walk to the door, it's late, quite late. I grab my coat and leave the house without any opposition, it's getting to be a habit. I go downstairs thinking about who to write to. Rosa? no of course not, Castiel? It would be ideal if he would actually answer the damn cell phone sometime... Chani? no, I don't want to bother her... Alexy?

And I don't know how it all turned into a discussion about how I don't respect his principles...

Alex listens without an opinion while pouring a couple of drinks, not because he doesn't care, but because my constant nightly visits to complain about my relationship problems have exhausted all his advice, he has already said it all, he has opined on everything and here I am, on his couch at 2 a.m., upset with my cute and stupid boyfriend.

Sometimes I feel that... it doesn't matter...

No, no, say it, you're already here, you woke me up, the least you can do is get it all out.

I shake my head low, watching my fingers run along the rim of my glass.

Sometimes I feel like I made a mistake.... That Nath and I, we should never have been more than friends

I confess in a low voice, I don't dare to look Alexy, I feel like shit, but finally releasing those words gives me a strange feeling of freedom, lightness, of having taken a small weight off my shoulders.

You know there's no solution for that, right?

I nod my head silently... Damn it, why do I feel so trapped?

I love him you know, I really love him.

Tears well up in my eyes and I take long heavy breaths in an attempt to hold them back.

Ever since I met him, I've only wanted to protect him, I want him to be happy... but....

You are not happy with him...

Alex finishes a sentence that was more than implied, my body feels tense, so tense it hurts, I raise my arm and empty the alcohol in my glass at once. As soon as I set it down on the table, Alexy begins to prepare another.

3.30 am and I can no longer continue to abuse the hospitality and good availability of my friend... Alex calls me a cab and I get in, praying that Nath will be asleep when I get home... The alcohol and the confessions leave me drained of my strength to face those amber eyes. I get to the door and before I put the key in I clearly hear a conversation on the other side, male voices... great.... I turn on my phone's camera to assess my expression and practice my best "everything is fine" smile before entering.

Oh, hi Eric, how are you?

Eric greets me with a half smile and a nod, I approach Nathaniel to kiss him like the happy couple we are, he smiles at me until my body covers his view of Eric, in that brief moment I see clearly how his expression is disfigured, he turns his face at the last moment and I plant my kiss on his cheek Really Nath? Really?

How did it go?

He asks to cut the awkward silence that hopefully only the two of us notice, as I walk around the apartment spreading out my things.

Fine, fine, Alex was telling me about his life, his new job and stuff

Wasn't Armin there?

No, but from what he let me know, they may be considering moving in together

Sounds complicated

Well, it's only complicated with the wrong person

Shit, Amy what the fuck are you saying? I glance quickly at Eric who didn't seem to be affected by the second hidden conversation Nath and I were having.

Would you like to stay with us for a while? I can make you a drink

No... No thank you, don't bother, I'm fainting. You don't mind if I go to sleep?

I disappear backstage, locked in the room I feel an urgent impulse to tear everything apart, I strip naked on my way to the shower and let the water wash away everything it can, but it doesn't work, I want to punch the wall, throw my things around the apartment, bang my head against the tiles. I breathe, again and again and again, in and out, I throw myself on the bed to half dry, I feel so tired, so exhausted, my head is spinning and I don't know anymore if it's because of my life, because of the problems or if it's just because of the alcohol.

I blink a couple of times immobile, I can't move, as if a huge weight is crushing my body, in front of me Nath's face, a couple of strands on his slightly frowning brow, still asleep he looks like he's upset, but still he looks so.... Angelic and peaceful, I move a blond lock away from his eyes and let my hand caress his cheek, he looks so cute like this, I would like to freeze this moment forever, between dreams he slides his hand over mine in a sweet gesture, I can't help but smile, until reality hits me again and I feel like I can't hold back the urge to burst into tears.

I get up without making a sound, my chest hurts and squeezes my throat tightly forcing me to gasp for breath, I leave the room pressing my hands against my eyes as tears slip through my fingers, an involuntary sob escapes my lips breaking the silence, suddenly I bump into something that shouldn't be there.

I look up and thanks to the dim first light of the morning I run into Eric's back who looks as surprised as I do, if not more.

A-Amy

He said in a barely perceptible whisper, at the same time my meager defenses were collapsing like a house of cards.... Come on Amy, not here, not like this, not in front of him. Unable to fight any longer I broke into a thousand pieces, unconsciously clinging to his jacket, overflowing with all the anger, sadness and frustration I had been accumulating. Crying inconsolably with my face pressed to his chest, I felt one of his hands encircling my shoulders and the other resting on my head causing my crying to intensify, I can't stop myself, I can't control myself, I feel so bad, so alone in my predicaments.... Then I inhale the intense scent of leather, cigarettes, coffee and alcohol that fills my senses, after a few seconds of breathing him in, I calm down, until I can finally separate from him, covering my mouth with my hand and turning my face in the opposite direction, embarrassed...

Uh- I'm sorry, I... Drinking makes me a little sensitive...

My voice was weak and strange, I try to sound normal... like fine, but I know it's not credible...

Don't worry kid, I was just leaving.

I'll walk you to the door...

I mumbled walking after him to the exit, he left without adding anything else, alone again I carried my weight at the door, my heart was beating a thousand per hour... it could be-

My phone rings and I answer it quickly and without looking before the noise wakes Nathaniel.

Hello? Hyun? Yes... No, don't worry, I've been up for a while. Yes, of course, of course, I'll get ready and go. It's nothing.

[haylie0-o]

@periwinkle-the-11th

Warnings: Abusive Relationship (its not supercorp, I shall repeat in caps ITS NOT SUPERCORP!!!!)

Original Characters: Micheal Watts (Asshole), Dylan Parker (The Nicest Person Eva)

Things To Know: Original Idea 😝😝😝😝

••••

"It's just a fucking pomegranate." Lena thought to herself watching Kara peel one beside her.

But it's not just a pomegranate.

Kara is being gentle with the pomegranate. No one in Lenas life has done that, to a pomegranate or her.

She's being FUCKING GENTLE. This is the FUCKING girl of STEEL, and she's being GENTLE with a FRUIT?!?!? Lena thinks about it internally screaming at herself.

Not even the personal chef at the Luthor mansion did such things gently, even though he knew the whites were bitter he still got some in the bowl because he wasn't gentle, but Kara... Oh sweet Kara.

Neither was Micheal, Lena's first boyfriend and they guy who made her scared to be loved. He hit, not her but her surroundings when he was angry. Manipulation became a daily thing for lena for those 6 years she was with him. She remembers in this moment, another moment, not a happy and bittersweet like this, a "happy" one with a lurking darkness. Because Lena thought she was happy at the moment, but she'd learn it was just manipulation, it always was.

In that moment he was cutting a pomegranate for Lena so she could have a snack during her bath, she also lost her virginity that night, though she likes to forget that part, she didn't want that, now that she thinks for herself and he doesn't do it for her.

The pomegranate was the worst, the white seemingly overpowered the seeds, it was disgusting now that she thinks clearly.

It kinda shows how all her relationships reflect within the snack.

Like Dylan, a fling/boyfriend after Michael, she was 19 and 20 at the time, having been with Michael since 13.

Dylan was an angel, so when he said 'i don't think I like boys' he didn't get angry, nor upset. He instead hugged her, comforted her in a friend way, not boyfriend way.

She stills keeps in contact with Dylan, they stayed friends, but grew apart, they still care for each others well being and such. Just aren't friends, acquaintances, with a history, a happy history.

when he cut her a pomegranate after Lillian had lectured her for being gay, he was gentle, no whites.

Then there's Andrea, a fling, she was gentle, not as gentle as Dylan, but gentle.

If Lena recounts properly, there where 3 or 4 bites she didn't enjoy.

Then theres Jack, another one with a lulling darkness, because he never actually loved her, and it was one she got in to push down her feelings as Lillian had gotten ruder and ruder, making the girl feel hopeless.

He wasn't gentle, he eventually made Lena finish the task, it paralleled their work on the nanobots, he made her do most/more of the work.

Then theres James, he was ok just ok, it was an ok bowl, an ok cutting.

She doesn't hate James, his response when she finally succumbed to her everlasting love for women wasn't as comforting at Dylan.

"Really Lena?!"

"What about us?"

"But you do have a choice, that's all sexuality is?!?!"

He apologized however, so she guesses she forgives him.

Then Kara, even though they aren't even together, Kara is by far the best, she is so gentle, holding the pomegranate like it's a dear friend of hers. Treating it with a care people treat the frail bodies of humans as they get them ready for their funerals. Even putting the seeds in the bowl gently, it won't hurt the seeds, Lena knows Kara knows that, so therefore that is just the everlasting gentleness of Kara.

As the symbolism spreads throughout her relationships, Kara is also as gentle with her as she is with this pomegranate. When "Supergirl" saves Lena, Kara treats her as if she could break her, she could, which somehow makes the gentleness more impactful, in Lena's opinion.

Kara finishes up the pomegranate and slides to bowl to Lena.

Lena doesn't know what possesses her, but she does some things.

"Kara..."

It's broken, like a cry of a dog when it's injured.

"Hm..?"

Kara looks over and immediately cups Lenas cheeks at the red and teary eyes of the girl.

"Are you ok..?"

Once again Lena doesn't know what posses her, but she quickly leans in and kisses Kara.

She doesn't wait for a response movement before she pulls back, panicked and afraid.

"Shit shit Kara I'm sorry-"

She is beautifully cut off when Kara pulls her back in.

Yup.

Just as gentle as she guessed.

She melts into it, wrapping her arms around Kara neck as her eyes close, she hums into it as well, buzzing her and Kara's lips.

Well she pulls away she rests her head on Karas shoulder, smiling in her bliss.

"I love you.." Kara whispers in her ear "I love you..."

••••

Notes⬇️

Hope you enjoyed!!!

In case theres confusion this is the pomegranate symbolism.

People Lena has been with treat her like they treat pomegranates, in case no one caught on! i suggest reading again knowing that! yk? enjoy it!!

[strangerthingfanfic]

I wrote this for @katherinepapa

I love doing personalized stories so let me know and if you can do it through Etsy for a little financial support It would help but I will do it for free also

--------------------------

Another day, another lecture from your mom about how if you ate better and actually moved more you would be like the other girls.

“I don't want to be like them” you shout as you go out the door making sure to slam it closed as hard as possible.

Getting into your car you sigh. You're happy the way you are. You eat perfectly fine and love to walk at least two or three miles a night and you don't even break a sweat.

But the judgemental fools around you wouldn't understand that. It had to be your fault in their eyes. Who gives a damn about genetics or a possible health issue.

Pulling your long brown hair back in a ponytail you lock it in with a blue hair tie and make your way to the high school.

Home was the first layer of hell and now you had to enter the next seven layers for the next eight hours.

When you get there the only parking spot is next to a blue Camaro that everyone in school knows.

It belonged to the hottest guy in school Billy Hargrove. His sun-kissed skin and bright blue eyes had all the girls doing somersaults to be “his” girl.

You on the other hand just focused on school because you knew that you wouldn't stand a chance against those other girls. Though you could always dream.

You looked in your mirror and gave yourself the same pep talk you give yourself every day “Katerina, open those brown eyes of yours and just realize he's out of your league. Finish this one year of school then you can be done with Hawkins and move somewhere far away”.

Nodding in agreement with yourself you exit the car and head into the belly of the beast and head to your first class.

When lunch came around you find a quiet spot at a table under your favorite tree.

You decided long ago why eat in a group setting like the cafeteria when you don't have people to sit with.

While eating your lunch you watch the basketball team practice which happened to involve a certain sun-kissed blue-eyed angel.

He always beat out King Steve and never wore a shirt.

“Hey, the piggie is daydreaming about Billy again” you hear one of the cheerleaders say as they come to your table.

You notice they all laugh but junior Chrissy Cunningham who shoves the girl who said it and in a clear voice that even the boys could hear said “Guess what Crystal, you're off the team so get your shit and leave. Let this be a warning to all of you, as your cheer captain if I hear any of you tease or torment anybody for anything your off my fucking team” And with that, she shooed the others away including Crystal who looked like a wounded puppy, and sat down.

“Sorry about that, Katerina Crystal is a bitch. I think you're beautiful the way you are” Chrissy said with a genuine smile and you couldn't help but tear up a little.

“Hey don't cry, I know how your mom is and mine is the same. We have to stick together” Chrissy said handing you a tissue.

You smile and thank her. The two of you talk the who lunch break and when the bell rings Chrissy hands you her number to plan a girl's day out that weekend.

The rest of the day went by smoothly. You couldn't believe Chrissy Cunningham knew who you were let alone wanted to be friends.

But the world doesn't always keep the sunshine going. When you get to your car you see the word piggie scratched into the side.

You know it was Crystal but you don't have the proof so you take a deep breath and head home never noticing the eyes watching everything.

When you get home you head upstairs and drop your backpack off in your room before hearing your mom come in.

“Hey Katerina get your fat ass down here you have some explaining to do” your mom yelled and grimacing you head downstairs.

You half listen as your mom goes off about how shit like that wouldn't happen if you would lose that awful weight.

As soon as she lets up you head back upstairs and slam the door. Turning around you notice something extra in your room, Billy fucking Hargrove.

Your cheeks flush as you ask “did you hear all of that”?

He nods and pats the bed next to him. Deciding nothing can be worse than what you are feeling right now you sit down next to him

You feel his hand gently cover yours and shit hits the fan as your insecurity kicks in and you jump up.

“Let me guess this is the part where the hot guy who has been dared by his friends fakes being interested in the ugly fat girl and then makes her a laughing stock in front of the whole school. Well, I don't care to be that girl so you can leave” you say tears streaming down your face.

You cover your face with your hands to hide your pain. It's in this moment you feel strong arms embrace you and pull you into a tight hug.

“I came to offer to fix your paint job. I also told the principal what Crystal did and she has been suspended for a week. She didn't even deny it” Billy said his voice smooth as a jazz record.

“Then I heard what your mom said to you and it's awful. Katerina you are beautiful and your curves add to your natural beauty.

I love the way your eyes dance when the sun hits them just right. The brown of your hair mixed with your eyes are a marvel to look at. They just accentuate your beautiful face.

Most of all you have a beautiful spirit and that's the most important thing in a person.

So I would genuinely love to be your friend if you would let me” Billy said, holding you closer.

You nod and the two of you head off in his Camaro down to Lovers Lake and spend the whole night talking about both of your shitty parents and wanting to get away.

As the sun rose, Billy dropped you off at your place.

“May I kiss you?” he asked as he gently stroked the side of your face.

Not being able to speak you nod and he gives you a soft but sensual kiss.

You watch his Camaro pull away from your bedroom window and think even if it was just a one-and-done, it was something you would never forget.

Ten Years Later

You force yourself awake as the sun hits your eyes.

You look at the clock and almost fall out of bed when you see it's well past ten.

Getting up you throw on your robe and dash out into the hall and head for the bedroom at the end of the hall.

Then you stop and you breathe all while leaning against the doorway with a giant smile.

You can't believe the road your life has taken. There in the rocking chair was your blue-eyed sun-kissed basketball player rocking your beautiful brown hair and blue eyed baby girl. A bottle nestled next to her.

He was shirtless with her little head right up against his heart.

Even with all your curves, you landed a great man and father while Crystal was single.

You finally move because later you had a mommy and me class along with Chrissy and her son while Billy and Jason hung out with Max and Jane.

Life is grand isn't it.

[coconchanel]

Fated?...

It was Friday, your best day of the week. What was that?....TGIF right?

You couldn't wait for classes to finish so you could wind off with your bestie- Park Suho. So it wasn't unusual when you ran out of your lecture halls immediately the bell went to the snack bar where you girls usually met up after classes. You ordered a strawberry milkshake for you and chips for Suho out of habit while you sat on a stool to wait for her. Twenty minutes had passed without a sign of her causing you to furrow your brows. Suho wasn't really a fan of classes so her tardiness today was a bit strange. You pulled out your phone- that's when you noticed 5 missed calls and a text from her.

Berrb (~^3^)~

Baekhyun's in town. I'm sorry will make it up to you.

You couldn't help but sigh pouting your lips in the process. Baekhyun and Suho were in a long distance relationship. Which meant that anytime he was in town it was make-up-for-lost-time time; and in as much as you understood that, you hated that it was now of all times. Your eyes glazed over the bag of chips that was supposedly for Suho and in a matter of seconds it was open and almost finished by you and then you decided to hang a bit too full to move.

"Hey, Wake up."

"Hey shut the fuck up" You murmured, desperately trying to connect back to your dreamland. A deep chuckle was all it took for you to raise your head and look around. You were still at the snack bar but that wasn't important. The important thing was who woke you up.

"J-Jungkook?" As in the Jungkook in literally half of all your classes, the Jungkook you have a not-really-a-crush on. Okay scratch that you adored the guy cuz who wouldn't. Your brain was on overdrive as you couldn't help but stare at his face now that it was up close. " I-uh-thought I should wake you up since it's late." The way he fumbled with his words plus his cuteness tugged at your heart strings the more. if that's even possible, but that was true it was actually late. You stood from the chair grabbing your bag and some of the books you came with. "Thanks." you mumbled earning a nod from him.

The walk down the hallways was kind of awkward for the both of you. You were so silent, counting your steps even and him on the other hand...

Jungkook carried a torch for you since he met you in freshman year. He was ecstatic to find out he was in most of your classes but since you were always with your friend he didn't have courage to approach you but he was happy watching over you from the sidelines. Hell, he was so whipped he drew every picture he could of you. Those drawings in the very backpack he carried as he walked beside you. You both were now in senior year and he had decided to man up and tell you today after classes, but one look at his watch and you were already gone. As the both of you walked side by side he debated with the thought of confessing. Would it be so sudden? Would it be-

"Bye and thank you" You said turning around immediately. Your mind was muddled hence you didn't notice a rock and you...tripped.

"Ohmyfuckinggawd" You cussed silently earnestly hoping that you didn't just embarrass yourself in front of your crush, but the hurried footsteps and his worried voice proved otherwise. "Hey are you hurt?" he asked crouching beside you. You weren't hurt beside the bruise on your knee which you are sure he saw since he was literally removing everything from his backpack. "Here" he finally whispered when he found the bandage he was looking for but your mind was on something else. In his haste he didn't notice he had removed his sketches which were now on your lap.

You couldn't help but gasp at the very detailed drawings of you. Your eyes went to his and he looked down in an attempt to hide from your gaze. He gave a sigh, it was now or never then.

"You caught me" He mumbled making you furrow your brows in confusion. He quietly sat beside you as he looked at anything but you. " I like you a lot, seems it grew to love" He finally said heaving at how light his chest seemed. He looked back at you though since you hadn't replied for a while fear visible in his eyes. " Uh-you don-" You cut him off with a kiss. It was blissful,and passionate all in one and you wouldn't have asked for anything else.

"I like you too dork, who carries bandages around in their bags anyway."

[dandelion-stuff-and-fluff]

There are a couple types of nightmares that are endemic to academics.

The first is the one where SOMEONE is going to take your PhD away, whether for not passing some stupid class in undergrad (or sometimes even in highschool) and usually involves having to go back and finish it...except you never go and now you have to pass the final blind.

The second is the one where you show up naked/drunk/completely unprepared to teach a class and make an ass of yourself in front of your students.

Neither of these (which I have suffered through countless variations of over the years) prepared ne for the absolute CLUSTERFUCK TECHNOLOGICAL NIGHTMARE that actually befell me this fucking morning trying to give my students their exam.

The wifi in the lecture hall lagged so badly I honestly thought I was going to have to call it off and reschedule.

When the wifi was finally fixed, I discovered that Canvas (the evil stepsister to Blackboard for those of you playing the home game) had fucking EATEN all of the exam images and skewed them so they were unrecognizable. I had to sit and manually upload new images while all of my students watched me with angry, hateful eyes and silently cursed my soul.

All of this is because the university I work at (and it is a BIG fucking university - it's not Ivy League, but if you live in the US you HAVE heard of it) has made it soooooo complicated to access services for pen and paper exams/scantrons that it is essentially not feasible for many instructors. "Just use the online exam software - it worked great during COVID" - well 1) no it fucking did NOT and 2) during COVID entire classes weren't relying on your basic-ass wifi infrastructure that for some reason CAN'T SUPPORT A HALF FULL LECTURE HALL WORTH OF DEVICES.

I am going home early and I am having a liquid lunch. I have to administer the second half of this exam tomorrow and so help me god I am going to eat someone's face (most likely my own) off if it's like today in ANY way.

[unseelie-grimalkin]

So, your girl, who has been in Skyrim a sum total of a month, and has attended maybe 2 lectures and has done a lot of independent study and one-on-one study with the Restoration instructor...is now the Arch-Mage. She's considered the most politically powerful mage in all of Skyrim and is in charge of all the mages.

Yeah, she's confused too.

So, last time, we ended up with the recounting of how Triona killed her third dragon, the technical second one to attack her college in particular.

So with everything settled ("settled"), Triona sets out to the Labyrinthian, which she's never fully heard of before this point in the investigation, but the only context she's ever given for it is that the previous Arch-Mage had some history with it, giving Mirabelle (his second in command) the torc to allow entry to it (and before you mistake this as actual wearable jewelry as I did, this thing is huge and more meant to be one of those pull-only door handles for an ancient ruin).

So the Labyrinthian itself is a huge, sprawling ruin in the middle of the mountains. As you explore, you actually find it used to be an ancient city, way, way back in the day.

But as Triona explores, all she finds are the ghosts of the past (watching her now-dead Arch-Mage, in his youth, help spur on his fellow students to study a dangerous ruin...something that feels extremely poetic about that, given Saarthal in her life leading to his death). And before she can really start to unpack the implications, well-

She gets to a large, open cavernous room where there are armed skeletons and then...out of a huge burial mound in the middle, an undead dragon rises.

As is the case for many a Triona timeline variant, she wonders why her life is a constant, dangerous punchline.

Now, here is where something narratively interesting happens (as a result of Skyrim glitching):

Triona ran out of healing potions in this fight, but as she did so (hiding behind a pillar to avoid skeleton archers and the undead dragon's ice breath), she instantly clicked some magical knowledge into place to know the Sun Fire spell, aka one of the few Restoration offensive spells that exists that specifically damages undead and the undead alone.

Her enemies in this room are all undead.

She is a Restoration expert.

With Sun Fire in both hands, curling in her palms and around her forearms, Triona cleans the room in a matter of minutes. Where before her Firebolt spell was struggling to do any damage to the undead, all of her time and devotion into healing arts, understanding how life flows and ebbs, suddenly it matters in a way that saves her life and, ultimately, the world.

(I cannot even BEGIN to describe how stupid happy this glitch made me, it's so narratively poignant and so on the nose but so fucking good that I'm keeping it, this is canon to this AU now)

She continues down, following the ghost of someone she sort-of-knew, but not quite (he's always been distant; she dealt more with Mirabelle than him, with his main interaction with her being when the Psijic representative was around and him marveling over if they did anything wrong [manners-wise]. A...possible mirror moment to Triona, because she would've wondered the same thing? Hard to say) as she watches them all die one by one in the undead dangers of this tomb (undead dangers she's dealing with alone, where they had six). Eventually, she pieces together that the previous Arch Mage had killed the remaining two of his companions and enthralled them to keep something sealed.

And that something? Has been whispering to her this whole time, assuming she is the previous Arch Mage come back to finish what he started. Well, it started in a language she didn't know, but then progressively swapped over to Common the deeper she went, taunting "Savos" and how "he" didn't have what it took to finish the job.

And then...eventually, the voice realizes Triona isn't Savos Aren. It assumes that she's just a lackey he sent (which, not wrong) and taunts her with the knowledge that she has no idea what she's facing in this dungeon (also true) because the Arch Mage didn't tell her (if he did, the voice assumes she wouldn't be here).

But this guy isn't anticipating something of hers in turn: her impromptu prototype of Sun Fire.

So, with both parties having something secret against the other, they eventually meet in the deepest chamber of these dark, ancient, undead ruins:

In one corner, Triona enters, the room, golden fire ready in her palms and along her arms, spotting the two enthralled ghostly mages holding her opponent captive.

In the elevated side of the room, in a blue, glowing bubble of magic, something between a draugr (rotted flesh), a ghost (floating), and something recognizably at one point human (facial expressions, intelligence, voice) stares back at her. and she can feel that, all those times in the descent that she's felt her magicka drained? That's been this thing the whole time. This monster, apparently the nightmare creature of who used to be considered the most powerful mage in Skyrim.

And in its hands? The bloody fucking Staff of Magnus.

She kills the thralled ghosts, freeing this monster so that she can kill it and take the Staff of Magnus out of its skeletal hand.

I lost track of how long the fight was. Even with Sun Fire, it felt like forever, mainly because Morokei has a couple spells at his disposal that make fighting him a pain: Lightning Cloak, so you can't melee easily (not that Triona ever does melee, understand; she doesn't have the training for it), Greater Ward that eats your spells, Chain Lightning (just a pain in general), and Ebony Flesh (which gives him more armor; Mage Armor but make it different tiers).

But when he was dead, Triona spat up some blood on his body and then healed herself. She picked up the Staff of Magnus and just...while she knows the history of it (an ancient artifact that could power any mage but would leave the hands of any who got too powerful and threatened the balance of magic in the world), it all just...feels like a stick to her. A powerful stick (with her Restoration training, she can feel how it affects the health and magicka of life around her, capable of draining both should she will it), but...was it worth every life lost for it?

And she couldn't find an answer because she didn't have the luxury of time. She left the way she came, but before she could truly leave...Ancano's toady is there. And he thinks he can pick her off and measure up to the Literal Ancient Dragon Priest she just beat the snot out of. If he had been smart, sprung an ambush on her, and taken the Staff, that might've worked. But he's a High Elf agent of the Thalmor: he's gotta gloat about his superiority. And while he's not Clan Direnni, it all really shakes out the same, doesn't it?

With that hiccup out of the way, she rushes back to the college. She uses the staff to eat through the barrier of sheer magic and swirling force that Ancano had put up (barely having time to mourn Mirabelle's death) and get into the main hall.

Ancano has lost his marbles. Truly has, at this point. The Thalmor, in the years Skyrim is set in, is all about the Aldmeri Dominion taking over all of Tamriel and taking it from the Empire's hands. And...well, blowing up the world with a giant magical eyeball isn't really it, chief. Ancano is a character for whom we don't get too much information, but his MCU-esque weird heel-spin is...well, it's sure Something to Behold.

Triona teams up with Alteration Instructor (and, honestly, the only instructor to really...watch out for the college students and not focus solely on research or wait for students to approach them) Tolfdir to take out Ancano.

Compared to the fight with Morokei, Ancano...folds like paper. There's not much to be said: the Staff of Magnus trivializes this fight, and you have to use it for the main fight mechanic of separating Ancano from the Eye of Magnus, so he's even damageable at all.

And right after he hits the floor, the Psijic Order shows up. Declares that mankind isn't ready for something like the Eye, says they'll take care of it, and then...declares Triona to be the new Arch-Mage and leaves.

Triona looks at her teacher. "You surely don't think that's right, do you?"

"No, no, I agree." He smiles kindly at her. "You'll make an excellent Arch-Mage."

And it all kinda blurs from there, with clean-up, with being given the key to the Arch-Mage quarters, with everything. And she sits in her new office and she just. She's just kind of baffled, really.

But here's the thing: even with this new title, nobody lets her make any decisions. She tries to talk people into a memorial service, but everyone is too busy with their research. She tries to set up better safeties, for the students and for everyone, and Tolfdir says she doesn't have to worry about it. And, really, everyone is treating Tolfdir like he's Arch-Mage, even though he's supposed to be her second in command.

So, the first thing she does once she comes to her senses again is take off the musty Arch-Mage robes, swaps them for Master Restoration robes, gets herself a new hooded scarf, hides the Staff of Magnus, and she just. Leaves.